The Spell of the Fragment
by Bellairian
Summary: This story picks up where 'The Charm of One Detail' ends. Phryne has promised Jack she will tell him all the ways he has enchanted her and why he is wonderful. It turns out it works both ways in this arc of their relationship.
1. Celebrating Enchantment

_This story begins at the moment __'The Charm of One Detail' ends. Phryne has promised Jack she will tell him all the ways he has enchanted her and why she thinks he is wonderful. _

_You can find 'The Charm of One Detail' and its predecessor 'Irresistible' by setting your filter to include the M rated stories. Irresistible is how I see Phryne and Jack navigating the very first giddy, bumpy phase of a brand-new relationship. The Charm of One Detail begins where Irresistible ends and focuses on intimate details in the next phase of their relationship. _

_I'm utterly hopeless at plots, which is why I've resorted to describing small moments in Phryne and Jack's life together. There are dozens of wonderful writers on this site who are particularly gifted at weaving Phryne and Jack's relationship into compelling and believable tales of murder and mayhem. I sincerely hope the MFMM writers are reading those stories because I'd love to see them on my television screen sometime this decade._

_There's one last thing you should know – threads from the episodes and my first two stories will appear in this story. I hope you enjoy finding them._

-ooo-

"We're not just toasting, Inspector. We're celebrating. Enchantment, of course."

They took a sip of champagne, smiling at each other over the rims of their tilted glasses. Phryne set her glass on the kitchen table and slipped her arms around Jack's waist, taking a moment to nuzzle the bit of his bare chest peeking though the collar of his dressing gown. As she caught his scent she felt her skin start to hum and it took all of her resolve to smile up to him instead of pulling off their dressing gowns and wrapping her legs around him. Deep breath, Phryne, she told herself. Lunch was hours ago and there's a bath and bed after dinner to look forward to. "Jack, I know I told you all bets were off when I do this, but since you're starving I won't distract you."

Jack set his glass on the table and pulled Phryne close. That nuzzle of hers had become firmly associated with wonderful things to come and he had to stifle the urge to sweep the table clear of platters and plates and glasses. Besides, the promise of a bath and a soft bed after their meal was more appealing than the prospect of hard planes and angles of the table and the possibility of roast chicken underfoot. He gave her a look of mock disappointment – "I'll do my best to cope" – but he was smiling as he kissed her and then pulled a chair out for her.

They sat down to the meal Mr. Butler left for them and Phryne took her first bite of gratin. It was one of her favorite dishes, especially after it had cooled a bit and the flavors had had a chance to meld. Potatoes plus milk and cream, butter, cheese, garlic and nutmeg transformed into heaven. If anything could distract her from Jack this was it.

She closed her eyes as she savored the flavors and the feeling of the softer bottom layer of potato on her tongue and the slightly harder top layer against the roof of her mouth. But her eyelids snapped open when a thought even more important than her deep and abiding love of gratin bubbled up through her consciousness. Jack had been baring his heart to her for weeks and now it was her turn to start returning the favor. She chewed and swallowed as quickly as she could.

"Jack!"

Since Jack had just taken his own bite of gratin and was unable to answer politely by speaking, he raised both eyebrows to let her know he was listening.

"I've remembered one of the very first times I thought you were wonderful." Phryne took a sip of champagne to help wash down the gratin so she could continue talking. She had a lot to look forward to this evening and now was _not_ the time to choke. "Or you enchanted me. Hmmm. Which is which?" She cocked her head and thought for a moment. "Ah. Right."

Jack hadn't finished chewing so he opened his eyes wider to indicate he was _still_ listening.

"I was enchanted when you smiled at me and said it was too much paperwork to arrest me for breaking in to Leonard Stevens' apartment. And I thought you were wonderful when you told me to burn the plates of Charles and Bobby you found under his floorboards."

Jack took a sip of champagne to help wash down the gratin. Choking was not an option for him either. He had a lot to look forward to and he decided the question of exactly how she determined which was which could wait. But his eyes were smiling as he quirked an eyebrow at Phryne. "How could I arrest you? You bribed me with a basket of food and fed me gratin. Besides, you know how I feel about paperwork."

...

Phryne felt clean and warm and sated and utterly content. She was curled into Jack's side, idly tangling her fingers in the hair on his chest and he was idly running his fingers over the curve of her hip. Phryne looked up to Jack – his eyes were closed but a tiny smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth. She loves that tiny smile.

"Jack?"

"Mmmm?"

"I think you've smiled more in the past few months than in the entire time we've known each other."

"Mmmm. I have a lot to smile about these days."

"I was absurdly happy the first time you smiled at me. It was when you told me to call you Jack. Do you remember? You came by to tell me you'd convinced Welfare to let Jane stay with me."

"I do remember. I thought you were taking on far more than you could handle. But Jane is turning into a quite the young lady thanks to you."

"I'm adding 'the first time you smiled at me' to the enchanted list and 'talking to Welfare' to the wonderful list."

...

The next day was Sunday and Jack was heading to his own home to prepare for the work week. He had already donned his overcoat and Phryne had straightened his tie. Of course it was straight to begin with but they both enjoyed the affectionate moment tremendously. They shared a long kiss and a long hug in the entry hall before Jack put on his hat and opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Phryne leaned against the door jamb so she could watch him stride down the walk and Jack knew she would blow a kiss to him when he reached the gate.

But he had a surprise for her before he left, so he turned back to her before stepping off the porch. She watched curiously as he pulled something from the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket. He gave he a sidelong look as though he was weighing whether to show her or not. Then he held it so she could see.

Her eyes widened and she grinned delightedly when she realized what Jack was holding. "It isn't like you to remove evidence from police files, Inspector."

He shook his head and put the photograph back in his pocket. "This isn't evidence. I never charged you or arrested you Miss Fisher."

-ooo-

_A/N: There are many, many, many ways to prepare a gratin. I figured Mr. Butler would make Gratin dauphinois since he is Cordon Bleu trained._


	2. First Notes

_Memory is the scribe of the soul – Aristotle_

-ooo-

_A weekday evening_

Phryne unlocked the front door and was greeted by the hint of something buttery and lemony in the air.

Butter and lemon must mean fish of some sort was on the menu for dinner tonight. Wonderful, she thought and headed to the kitchen to see what Mr. Butler had in mind.

She found Dot sitting at the table cutting a lemon into wedges and Mr. Butler standing at the sink shaking water out of a bunch of parsley. Several thin filets of fish lay on a sheet of brown paper still retaining creases from being wrapped at the market. The buttery aroma was coming from a knob of butter slowly melting in a large sauté pan on the stove.

"Dot! Mr. B! It smells wonderful in here! What's for dinner?"

Dot piped up "Mr. Butler is teaching me a new way to prepare fish, Miss. Since Hugh likes to fish so much I thought I should learn more ways to cook it than frying it in a pound of lard. What is it we're making Mr. Butler?"

"We're going to dust the fish with flour and sauté it in a little butter and serve it with lemon and parsley, Dorothy. Something of a modified meunière recipe, Miss Fisher. Since snapper is in season right now I thought I'd show Dorothy a few simple ways of preparing either salt- or freshwater fish. Then she can deal with whatever Constable Collins catches and brings home."

"Oooh. I love trout meunière so I'm sure I'll love the snapper version. Wonderful idea, both of you. When will dinner be ready?"

"Will the Inspector be joining you for dinner Miss?"

"No Mr. B. It's just me and Dot tonight."

"Then fifteen minutes."

...

Phryne was in the parlor after having dinner with Dot. Phryne had every intention of spending an hour on the loveseat with the new book in her hand and the nightcap on the side table before going upstairs to bed.

She had just taken a sip of her drink when the orchid on the piano caught her eye. Just gazing at the white blossoms on the graceful arch of the bloom stalk triggered memories far more intoxicating than her whiskey and she felt her body start to respond to her thoughts. She closed her eyes for a moment to savor the feeling but a nagging question tugged at the tiny corner of her brain that wasn't occupied with the memory of Jack's lips between her thighs. She decided to save that deliciousness for later and deal with the question now.

How should she tell Jack the next things on her list? She had a lot to tell him but she didn't expect to see him for at least a day, probably two, and that was far too long to wait. She could telephone him at the station, but they had decided to keep anything that could be construed as personal rather than professional contact to a minimum until the Sanderson case started to settle down. Hugh was a dear but he would probably answer the telephone and it wasn't right for her to put him in a potentially precarious position.

Of course. Dot regularly stopped in to chat with Hugh or deliver biscuits or meet him for lunch. She could send a note with Dot. The _how_ settled, she turned her attention to the _what_.

Each time Jack said or did something astonishing or breathtaking or funny or infuriating she had been unconsciously pasting it in an album in her mind – an album that was very full with these memories. They began very early in their acquaintance, almost from the first day, but certainly when she told Cec and Bert to contact a rather civilized policeman she'd just met to Jack telling her he was studiously trying using the word "murder" when he and Hugh were taking an obviously frightened and shaken young woman to the station for questioning.

She had watched how Jack treated Hugh with more than a touch of forbearance when the young man stumbled and indulgent wryness when making Hugh do something uncomfortable, usually involving women. The look on Hugh's face when Jack told him to search the women at the Green Mill club was priceless. She was willing to bet Jack made Hugh interview her cousin Guy's fiancée Isabella. She could imagine the look on the poor boy's face when Isabella flounced into the room in that clingy satin nightgown and lace wrap.

But Jack made sure to compliment Hugh when he'd done a good job, including finding the dagger in the water at Queenscliff although Phryne barely remembered anything about that moment that didn't involve a dripping wet detective inspector. And she now knew Jack had been a helpful accomplice in Hugh's proposal to Dot. She would never have guessed police business sometimes involved Shakespeare but Jack's sidelong look and tiny smile said otherwise.

There were so many moments that showed her the kind of man he was; his character, his underlying sense of humanity in a profession that was often populated with brutal and corrupt characters on both sides. These were the things she came to respect him for. These were reasons she thought he was wonderful. There are dozens more reasons, Phryne thought to herself, and I'm going to need some more stationery.

...

Phryne awoke with a start, an ache in her neck from dozing on the loveseat. But before she went upstairs she had one last thing to do. She found some writing paper and an envelope in the small desk in the corner of the parlor. She had a flash of inspiration of how to make this even more fun and headed to the kitchen. Hmmm. How was she going to do this? She didn't have a tiny paintbrush but she did find an old empty fountain pen in the junk drawer.

She wrote a note to Jack and wrote 'J. Robinson' on the front of the envelope and sealed it.

Her second note read 'Dot, please give this envelope to Inspector Robinson when you visit Hugh at the station tomorrow. There may be a return message.'

She left the envelope for Jack and the note for Dot on the kitchen table. Then she went upstairs and got ready for bed. By now she wasn't at all surprised by how much she missed falling asleep with Jack. Pulling his pillow close was a poor substitute but she buried her nose in it anyhow, his lingering scent filling her senses until she drifted off to sleep.

...

Jack looked up from the file he was reading when he heard a soft knock on his office door. Dot stepped into his office with a quiet "Good morning, Inspector. I'll be here a few minutes longer if you have a return message." and handed him an envelope with Phryne's handwriting on the front.

He opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of blank note paper. He checked the reverse side of the paper and the envelope in case he'd missed something. The paper was a little crinkly and Jack smiled to himself when he guessed what Phryne must have done. He rummaged through his desk drawers until he found a box of matches.

_ Jack,_

_ Wonderful: Being gentle with Dot even when you thought she might be a murderer._

_ Enchanted: Hugh and Twelfth Night._

_ P._

Jack put Phryne's note in his pocket and tore a blank page from the back of his notebook. He wrote

_Phryne,_

_I recall you putting Shakespeare to good use too. _

_J._

and put his note in the original envelope. He crossed out his name on the front and wrote 'Miss Fisher' and called to Dot. One thing was certain – he needed to get some writing paper and envelopes if they were going to play this game.

-ooo-

_A/N: Doesn't everyone have a junk drawer in the kitchen? _

_Thank you so much for your lovely reviews! I'm sorry to say I did not stumble across that quote because I was actually reading Aristotle. I heard it in the movie version of The Book Thief. _


	3. Why Shakespeare?

"…_only someone who is ready for everything, who doesn't exclude any experience, even the most incomprehensible, will live the relationship with another person as something alive and will himself sound the depths of his own being." Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet_

-ooo-

_The next evening_

Phryne jumped up from the armchair in the parlor and opened the front door for Jack before he even had a chance to think about pulling his keys out of his pocket.

She was obviously bursting to talk about something so he kissed her hello and waited for whatever it was while he removed his hat and coat and hung them on the hooks in the entry hall. Phryne looped her arm in his and led him into the parlor.

She poured whiskey into two glasses and handed one to Jack. "Mr. B says dinner will be another 20 minutes or so." She sat down on the loveseat and patted the seat so he would sit next to her. Perfect. She turned and rested her crossed ankles on Jack's thigh and then she picked up his note from the side table. "Jack, you started it with the Shakespeare, I just carried it to its natural conclusion. But it begs the question - why did you start? Why did you quote from Antony and Cleopatra at the theater?"

Jack took a sip of his drink and thought back as he contemplated the ankles on his lap. Hmmm. He turned towards her and shifted a bit so he could easily reach her calves peeking from the hem of her skirt. "It was a desperate ploy to take your mind off Pirates of Penzance, of course. You would have badgered me until I had no choice but to sing to get you to stop."

"Hah! It was a very bold move and it worked. But seriously Jack. Why that passage? It's very provocative."

"I'm not sure. At the time I thought you were involved with Lin and it bothered me even though I had no right to be bothered – I'd already told you Rosie and I were separated and I wouldn't break my marriage vows. I suppose it was a way of telling you I wanted to even though I wouldn't."

"I was very glad you trusted me enough to tell me about the state of your marriage."

Jack let out a little huff of breath. "It was a relief to confide in you. Only my family and Rosie's family knew how far our marriage had deteriorated. Somehow I knew you would at least try to understand. So many people wouldn't. And I thought if you knew I could relax around you, just enjoy being with you. I was surprised by how much I liked you. By that point I realized you were bright and capable and definitely had good investigative instincts. Even if you are untrained." Jack couldn't resist a smirk. She _was_ untrained. But her instincts _were_ excellent.

"What? You agreed I was a professional when we were chasing down Hector Chambers' stolen Rolls."

"Hmmm. You gave me an 'I dare you to disagree' look. It's not quite the same thing."

Jack was right but Phryne decided to forge ahead with the more important thread of the conversation. "I think it's when we started becoming friends, Jack. For you to tell me something _so_ personal meant you trusted _me_. It's when I knew I could trust _you_. From what I've told you about René and my father you know how important trust is to me. It was far more important than the possibility of being lovers."

"Phryne, I have no right to ask and you do not have to answer, but what was the attraction with Lin? I'm curious. He seemed to hold your attention for some time but you made sure I knew when it was over." Jack really didn't care about any of the others; Lin was the only one who lasted more than a day.

Phryne thought for a moment. If Jack was going to ask, she was going to answer. "You weren't happy about Lin, were you? He was charming and beautiful and intriguing. But he became off limits once he chose Camellia. I don't get involved with engaged or married men. Especially honorable married men." She smiled fondly at him.

Then she decided to ask a question of her own. "What about you Jack? In your line of work you meet all kinds of women. I'd be willing to bet quite a few of them took an interest in you over the years. At least one must have been charming and beautiful and intriguing."

Jack idly rubbed a thumb over Phryne's ankle while he thought about her question for a minute or two. "Of course there were times when I was tempted. But being unfaithful isn't part of the marriage bargain, no matter how bad the bargain becomes. So I just… ignored any overtures that came my way. Once the divorce was final and I actually allowed myself to notice, I was surprised women showed an interest in me at all."

Oh my goodness, Phryne thought. "You really have no idea, do you? You're beautiful and intriguing and you can be charming when you want to be. Jack, don't give me that look. It's true. I'm surprised I didn't have to push my way through a crowd to get to you."

"By the time I was divorced it was almost too late to matter. I started wondering what it would be like to be in love with you right after I arrested the mayor."

Phryne shuddered at the thought of the mayor. "Phillips was despicable. We did a good thing that day. But then you stuck out your elbow for me like it was the most natural thing in the world for me to take your arm. You told me I'd done something important, something that would make a difference in the lives of young women. And when you handed me Jane's adoption papers and I was sad I wasn't her mother you told me I could be her guardian angel." Phryne closed her eyes for a moment and smiled again at the memory. "You had the perfect response. I liked you so much that day, Jack." She wiggled her crossed ankles.

"I liked you so much that day too. You made a difference in Rose and Jane's life and you helped bring Kitty's killer to justice. Maybe Marie will stop stealing fountain pens too." Jack tickled Phryne's wiggling ankles and she smiled delightedly.

"But I didn't think _we_ would ever be possible, so I thought I should start paying attention to other women and just enjoy being with you when I had the chance. It worked for a while. But it was impossible to ignore how I felt about you when I thought you were dead and the world as I knew it ended."

Phryne stopped wiggling. But she didn't move her ankles off Jack's lap and he didn't let go of them.

"Jack, we can't go back and change what happened. But I'm very glad we're going forward."

"Phryne, you can't believe how thankful I am we were able to find our way to each other."

"You took quite a leap of faith Jack."

"Not really. I knew what I wanted and I thought we could work things out as we proceeded. And if we can't make it work, we'll know we tried. That's infinitely better than the regret of not trying."

Jack took a sip of his drink and thought about how Phryne had proceeded. He expected her to be cautious but she wasn't. She had welcomed him into her life and her home and her bed unreservedly. She surprised him with his own set of keys to her house and he was free to come and go as he liked. She had made space for him in her wardrobe for heaven's sake. She freely gave him the one thing he needed and more than everything else he hoped for.

"You took a leap of faith too, Phryne."

Phryne took a sip of her drink and thought about how Jack had proceeded. He told her astonishing and breathtaking things – how lovely she was to him, letting her know how much and how long he had wanted her, when he knew, months ago, he would fall in love with her – and gave her time and space to mull them over, come to grips with them, act on them. Or not. He never pushed and she didn't feel her usual sense of urgency to be in control. She didn't need to show him what _she_ could do – she wanted to know what _they_ could do. She had no reservations committing to him.

"Not really Jack. I knew what kind of man you are and I trust you completely. I'm _very_ happy to we decided to try."

"I am too."

They toasted with the last sip of whiskey and Phryne decided it was the perfect time to move to Jack's lap. And if Jack wanted to kiss her and fondle her legs that was fine with her. It was more than fine when she felt his warm hand slide up her leg to the bare skin at the top of her stocking. Oooh. That reminded her of something.

"Jack, I'd still love to see you in the Mark Antony costume. You definitely have the legs for it."

"I don't think so Phryne."

"Are you sure? We could go upstairs right now and I could undo your tie and help you with your buttons and add nice legs to the enchanted column."

"I'm sure. I'd rather wear a tuxedo than a leather kilt." Uh-oh. The second the words came out of his mouth Jack knew a tuxedo figured in his near future. He needed to distract her. He ran his hand back down to her ankle so he could look at his watch. "I certainly wouldn't mind the going upstairs part but didn't you say dinner would be ready in 20 minutes? It's been at least that long."

...

The murmur of voices coming from the parlor had changed tenor from low and serious to lighter and almost playful and Mr. Butler sensed an important conversation had come to an amicable conclusion. When he heard the soft chime of crystal touching crystal he decided dinner was ready. But he made a lot of noise on his way from the kitchen to the dining room door.

...

Phryne got up from Jack's lap and laced her fingers in his as they walked to the dining room. "Alright, no costumes. And Jack? Add 'trust' to the wonderful column and 'perfect response' to the enchanted column." Phryne smiled mischievously at him. "But don't think you distracted me from your tuxedo comment. Now tell me about your day."

-ooo-

_A/N: Everyone else has a Jack in a tux chapter. Why not me too? And Phryne needs a new dress for Jack to, ummm, admire her in. Yeah, that's it. _


	4. Mistletoe Mischief

_Thank you so much for your reviews of the last chapter. I started the thread of Phryne trusting Jack in the very first chapter of my very first story. I see Phryne trusting Jack as absolutely crucial to her being able to commit herself to one man – something she told Lin she could not do. _

_There are no tuxedos in this chapter! But I hope you'll like it anyhow – it just popped into my head while I was working on another chapter._

-ooo-

Phryne walked out of the Windsor Hotel grumbling internally.

She had spent the last two hours lunching with Aunt Prudence and most of the time was spent listening to her aunt trying to persuade her to attend parties and functions where meeting eligible men was the underlying purpose.

At some point very soon she needed to tell her aunt about Jack. Everyone else in their very close circle knew she and Jack were in a committed relationship. A committed relationship which was progressing so beautifully she was probably going to give Jack a set of keys to the Hispano. And if she was going to do _that_ she might as well say yes if they ever talked about getting married.

It occurred to Phryne she should not have played the trick on Aunt P when they celebrated Christmas in July with Jane. It had only served to prolong the eligible men discussions.

Phryne had no idea who brought or found the bough of mistletoe but she knew Jane would never be able to resist the allure of holding it over as many likely heads as possible and demanding her victims kiss.

Phryne also knew Aunt P would probably have a fit, possibly even a heart attack, if her niece were to kiss Jack Robinson, whom Mrs. Stanley considered unsuitable regardless of his rank, in front of a servant and ruffian cabbies and everyone else in attendance. Phryne did _not_ want to be on the receiving end of the indignant lecture that was sure to ensue. So she hatched a plan, which at the time seemed brilliant, to allay Aunt P's fears and get her on her way home at a reasonable hour with no fits or heart attacks and leave plenty of time for kissing Jack Robinson.

As Jane was holding the mistletoe over Dot and Hugh's head Phryne plopped down on the loveseat next to Mac and whispered to her to watch Aunt P's face when Jane held the bough over her and Jack's head. Jane was sure to do it – it was just too good an opportunity to pass up. Mac knew Mrs. Stanley very well and the implications of what Phryne was saying struck her as hysterically funny.

Phryne collected a drink for herself and Jack from Mr. B. As she handed Jack his drink she whispered to him "Whatever happens in the next couple of minutes, just follow my lead. _Do not_ kiss me under _any_ circumstances! And watch Aunt P's face afterwards."

Jack gave her a quizzical look but nodded once and she took up a stance beside him. She was very close, close enough for Jack to fold her to him, although not actually touching any part of him. But she was so close to Jack Aunt Prudence would notice and keep an eagle eye on her.

When Jane approached Aunt P and Bert, Phryne felt a little frisson of expectation. This was going to be good. A discomfited Aunt P would be even more likely to watch Phryne and Jack very closely. Aunt P was surprisingly gracious about kissing Bert on the cheek but she turned her gaze to her niece immediately afterwards and began scowling in anticipation of an unsuitable kiss.

And now it was their turn. Jane zeroed in on Phryne and Jack with a gleam in her eye – something had happened between these two while she was abroad and now she would have proof. She stood on the footstool so she could get the bough right over their heads. She didn't want to give them any excuse for not kissing.

Poor Jane. There was no kiss between her beautiful foster mother and the handsome inspector. Her face fell when Phryne very calmly explained to the room she didn't think her kisses could be compelled by sprigs of parasitic greenery.

She didn't see her beautiful foster mother and the handsome inspector spend a lot of time talking about mistletoe and smiling and gazing at each other. But she did see the expression on Mrs. Stanley's face relax from horrified anticipation to relief.

...

Phryne decided a two minute stop to see Jack was not going to cause the earth to stop spinning on its axis, but she did check the cars parked around the station. The car Jack usually drove was there and only a couple of marked police cars. No one else. Good.

She stopped at the front desk, said a quick hello to Hugh, and cocked her head towards Jack's office in a silent request for information.

"He's in there and he's alone." Hugh was getting much better at reading her mind. Good on two counts.

Phryne marched into Jack's office and smiled at him when he looked up at her. "Inspector!"

"Miss Fisher!?" Jack was surprised but pleased to see Phryne. He dearly missed her impromptu appearances in his office. Maybe one day she could stand beside him and lean over his desk again.

Phryne lowered her voice. "This will just take a minute Jack. Wonderful? Following my mistletoe instructions. Enchanted? Kissing you afterwards. Well, kissing you anytime, actually. And Jack? Aunt Prudence needs to know. _Soon_. She's driving me crazy."

Phryne blew a kiss to her inspector and left his office.

-ooo-

_A/N: Why? Because you know as well as I do there __**had**__ to be kissing after the looks those two were giving each other. I've always wondered what Phryne and Mac were laughing about. And what or who are Phryne and Jack looking at afterwards? Phryne looks like the cat that swallowed the canary and Jack is smirking, for heaven's sake. I'm firmly convinced the MFMM writers are evil geniuses and they're counting on us to find their clues._


	5. Emergency Backup

_Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! I love hearing what you think!  
_

_What Phryne and Mac talked about a few days after Phryne and Jack's first time._

-ooo-

Phryne had a lunch basket over her arm when she knocked on Dr. Macmillan's closed office door.

She heard Mac groaning at being disturbed during the one time she was able to sit down and enjoy some peace and quiet.

She didn't wait for Mac to decide whether to tell the unknown person on the other side of the door to come in or go away. She peeked in, closed the door behind her, and set the basket on Mac's desk.

Mac looked at her friend with a combination of exasperation and happiness. Whatever was in the basket would be far more edible than the sandwich she made for herself and shoved in her briefcase.

"Phryne! Are you alright? What are you doing here?"

"Sorry to disturb you on your lunch break Mac but we need to talk." Phryne started pulling dishes and cutlery out of the basket while Mac cleared a spot on her desk. "I need to get another diaphragm."

"Hmmm." Mac already had a fork in her hand and was surveying the dishes before her.

"Mac. Aren't you going to ask me why?"

Mac sighed. "Alright. Why do you need another diaphragm?"

"Emergency backup. I'm active. _Very_ active."

Mac shot Phryne a piercing look. "_Very_ active? What does that mean? How often are you having intercourse?"

Phryne's return look was wide-eyed and innocent. "As often as possible?"

The penny dropped and Mac's eyes narrowed. "You and Jack Robinson finally figured out you can't stand not being together, didn't you. It's about time." The last bit was barely audible.

"Good guess, Mac. And we really need to be prepared for any situation. I adore Jack but getting pregnant is _not_ an option."

Mac put her fork down. Regardless of how good everything looked and smelled, doctor mode won out over hunger mode. "Does he have any children?"

"No."

"Any miscarriages or stillbirths or children who aren't living? Venereal diseases? Any illnesses when he was in the army? Childhood illnesses like mumps that could affect fertility?"

Phryne looked a little abashed. "Hmmm. I don't know. There _are_ a few things we haven't talked about yet Mac."

Mac raised an eyebrow at her friend. "Find out. You're using your diaphragm? Religiously?"

While Mac was talking Phryne helped herself to a bite or two. She nodded at Mac.

"I know you feel very strongly about being in control but have you considered using condoms too? Assuming they're used correctly they are just as, if not a little more, effective as a diaphragm and you don't have to keep a condom in place for hours afterwards. Well, come to think of it you couldn't keep one in place for hours afterwards, could you...? Mac's voice trailed off as she tried to get that picture out of her head.

She got up from her chair and retrieved Phryne's file from the bank of file cabinets lining the wall and started flipping through it. "Let's see when you got the diaphragm you have now… It's been almost two years. I suggest getting a new one and an emergency backup and the biggest box of condoms you can find."

"Get up on the examining table and let me take a look. I think the size I ordered last time will be correct since you haven't gained or lost any weight or been pregnant but I should measure you to make sure."

Mack kept up a running commentary while she was examining Phryne. "I'll order the diaphragms and the spermicide and I'll call you when they arrive. Until then make doubly sure the one you have now doesn't have any tiny holes or weak spots. Do you have enough spermicide? You and your charming inspector are in charge of the condoms though. Do you need some samples to tide you over for a few days?

"Yes, give me some samples, please. I don't have any and I doubt Jack does either since I told him we could rely on my diaphragm. What's their shelf life anyhow? Is there anything else we can do? Anything new and exciting in your medical journals or correspondence?"

Mac thought for a minute while she washed her hands. "There's a doctor in Austria who hypothesizes women have fairly regular fertile and infertile days during their cycles. In _theory_ there are days that are safer than others. Are your periods still regular? Any changes within the last six to twelve months?"

"No. I'm still as regular as clockwork. I track everything in a little notebook."

"Good. I'll do some reading and get back to you. And you let me know if _anything_ changes. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to eat my lunch in peace." Mac smiled at her friend as she pulled some samples from a desk drawer. "Open your handbag" she instructed Phryne and dropped a generous handful of condoms inside. "I'll return the basket later today or tomorrow."

The two friends shared a quick hug and Phryne turned to leave. As she opened the door Mac remembered something else.

"Phryne. There's one other thing I've heard about – I have no idea whether it's true or not and I'll have to write a couple of letters to see if any of my colleagues abroad know anything about it – but – there is a theory some sperm remain in the man's urethra after ejaculation. Simply urinating afterwards will expel any remaining sperm. Just something to think about if… good lord, is Jack ever going to look me in the eye again?"

"Mac, Jack is an amazingly modern man once you get to know him."

"Good to know. Anyhow, it's something to consider if Jack is, ummm, capable of a repeat performance within a couple of hours _and_ he hasn't urinated _and _for some reason you two have a moment of insanity and neither one of you is protected. Don't let the unprotected part happen."

Phryne worked very hard to keep a straight face but her eyes were smiling. "It depends Mac. It just depends." Then she remembered why she was here and her expression sobered. "The repeat performance, I mean, not the insanity. This is too serious for insanity."

"You know Phryne, there is one absolutely foolproof method of preventing pregnancy."

"Believe me Mac, I know."

"I was talking about abstinence Phryne."

Phryne bit her lip and looked at Mac. "Hmmm. Yes, that's another one."

...

_That evening _

Jack and Phryne were sitting on the loveseat in the parlor after dinner that evening. They were turned in to each other, knees touching, fingers laced. During dinner Phryne had mentioned she'd seen Mac earlier that day, but hadn't elaborated on the reason for the visit. She waited until they had a little more privacy to broach the real subject.

"Jack, did Rosie ever get pregnant while the two of you were married?"

Jack's eyebrows rose. "No. We wanted to, but no."

"Have you ever had any venereal diseases? Any illnesses when you were in the army? Childhood illnesses? Mumps?"

Jack looked _very_ puzzled. "No to all of those. Why all the medical questions?"

"I saw Mac about getting a backup diaphragm and asked her to help figure out the most reliable methods for us to not get pregnant. If you were infertile that would solve a lot of problems."

Jack looked a little less puzzled. "Ohhhhh. Just so you know Phryne, most men don't look at infertility as a good thing."

"Well of course they don't Jack. I'm just trying to cover all the possibilities."

"Good thinking." Jack settled in to listen to whatever was coming next.

"Mac suggested we think about using condoms sometimes. She says condoms are a little more effective than my diaphragm. And you have to admit it's a little awkward to stop and insert my diaphragm after you've given me an orgasm with your mouth and I'm pretty sure ingesting spermicide is not a good idea so putting my diaphragm in beforehand is problematic. It probably tastes awful too."

"Hmmm. No, that's not something I really want to find out…"

"I don't either. Do we want to plan exactly what we're going to do every single time? Do you think using a condom would be less disruptive than using my diaphragm? Mac thought she was being funny telling me abstinence is an option but of course it isn't. I adore you Jack but I would be the world's worst mother and we've hardly had a chance to figure out what we are together and I just can't get pregnant."

Jack thought he heard the tiniest hint of panic in Phryne's voice. She was almost inarticulate. This was a little alarming – she must really be worried.

"Phryne. _Phryne_. Come here sweetheart." Jack pulled Phryne close and hugged her very tightly."If you ever do want to get pregnant I hope it will be a decision we make together. I've had enough abstinence to last a lifetime but it isn't worth taking chances. Let's experiment to see what works best for us _and_ we'll be very, very careful. Alright?"

Phryne took a deep breath. "Phryne?" Jack caught the underside of her chin with one finger. His head was tilted down to her, dark eyes gazing up at her from under his eyelashes. "When would you like to start experimenting?"

...

"Jack?"

"Mmmm?"

"Wonderful? You learning how to put my diaphragm in. Enchanting? Experimenting."

-ooo-

_A/N: You all would not believe what my browser history looks like. If nothing else I'm thwarting Google's efforts to determine an accurate picture of what kinds of adverts to popup. Anyhow, I thought it was important to let you know my Phryne and Jack __**are**__ using birth control. Even though I only mentioned it once in "Charm" it's a given that Phryne has had her diaphragm __**firmly**__ in place every single time. Until they tried condoms too, of course._

_I'm not advocating for or against any specific sort of birth control and I'm not making any sort of editorial comment - I'm merely basing Mac and Phryne's and Phryne and Jack's conversations on what I've learned was practice and theory in 1930. If you are a medical professional and have better information please let me know. I have it from a reliable source family planning/birth control was legal in Australia at the time, unlike other parts of the world. (Thanks, reliable source. You know who you are.) I __**am**__ advocating using the method of birth control that's right for you. And get yourself checked for STDs on a regular basis. And use sun block. And get plenty of sleep. _


	6. The Notebook

_I'm 99.99% sure I'm the only MFMM writer on this site who has used the words 'urethra' and 'urination' and 'spermicide' in a story. I haven't read all the stories though, so if I'm wrong, please let me know. _

_I've said it before, but I think it bears repeating – I see Phryne and Jack as two strong-willed, passionate adults working out how to take the next steps forward together. This includes talking about things they might never have dreamed of talking about with another person except perhaps their physicians._

_This chapter is the natural extension of the previous chapter. It's a little shorter than most but I hope you enjoy it anyhow. _

-ooo-

_The next morning (It's now Tuesday. Phryne had lunch with Aunt P and popped in to Jack's office afterward on Monday.)_

Phryne awoke just a few minutes before Jack – not enough time to watch him sleep and fall in love with him all over again but more than enough time to fall in lust with him all over again.

Good heavens. If the sight of Jack's naked body wasn't both wonderful _and_ enchanting she didn't know what was.

Jack was just starting to wake up when he felt Phryne stirring beside him. She was snuggled into his side but instead of stretching with him she shifted and she most definitely was not keeping her hands to herself. He took a deep breath knowing whatever was going to happen next was going to be wonderful.

Ohhhh. Phryne didn't do _that_ very often. Usually she moved so she could be on top or tugged on his hip for him to be on top. Apparently this morning they were going to do something a little different. Jack decided to relax and let Phryne have her way with him.

...

A little while later Phryne was snuggled back into Jack's side and they stretched together. "Mmmm" he rumbled into the top of her head. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Phryne hugged Jack as tightly as she could with the arm she had wrapped around his waist. "Not this morning Jack. I've been so preoccupied trying to figure out how to tell Aunt P about us I forgot to keep track of what day it is. I got up during the night to use the bathroom and I realized my time of the month started. Luckily I had my diaphragm in otherwise the sheets would have been a mess."

Jack thought for a few moments. Ah. Maybe that was why Phryne was wearing her nightgown. Why hadn't they encountered this situation before? He looked at his watch to see how much time they had before he had to get up and wash and get dressed. Enough time to talk for a few minutes. He shoved another pillow under his head and kept Phryne close.

"You aren't usually here on a Monday night Jack. I'm one of those women with a light flow on a 28-day cycle. It's almost like clockwork really. By the time you spend the night again it's finished." Phryne reached over to her bedside table and pulled a little notebook out of the drawer. "Luckily I usually don't get weepy and emotional either. See? I keep track."

Jack had a mother and sisters and he'd been married but he'd never had a conversation quite like this before. It was actually extremely interesting.

As soon as Phryne opened the notebook she wished she hadn't. Even though she started a new one every year, she also made a note of _who_. She really didn't want to remind Jack of the actor. Oh well. He already knew about him and at least he would see 'Jack' was the only other name.

"Phryne?"

"Yes?"

"Whatever you did before me is your business. I know that." Jack really _had_ come to terms with the fact Phryne was a modern woman and had every right to conduct her life as she wished. They were both adults with physical desires. She had chosen one path, he had chosen another, and they were on a new path together now. End of story. "But Warwick Hamilton's name isn't in here."

Phryne shuddered. "No. Luckily Dot starting screaming because Bert and Cec played a trick on her. Otherwise I was going to invent an interruption."

Jack was a little surprised. "That's a little brutal, isn't it? So the sanctity of the boudoir…?"

"I was only trying to get information – I wasn't interested in him at all. Don't think for a minute Warwick Hamilton was going to untie my dressing gown. And I had pajamas on too, just in case." She shuddered again. "There are lots of ways to get information, Jack. But I won't use that one anymore."

...

Hugh stopped by the Fisher house that evening to see Dot. He could see Dot and Jane through the kitchen window. They were sitting at the kitchen table with the newspaper spread in front of them. They both had handkerchiefs pressed to their noses and it looked like they had tears streaming down their faces.

Mr. Butler intercepted Hugh at the kitchen door and greeted him with a quiet voice. "You might want to tread very lightly Constable."

Hugh was baffled. "Why what's wrong?"

"They're reading a story about a mother cat and her kittens."

Hugh was even more baffled. "Kittens? But why are they crying?"

Mr. Butler looked at Hugh with a touch of pity. This young man had a lot to learn. "Constable, it's that time of the month. For both of them. As I said, tread lightly."

Hugh took a deep breath and Mr. Butler let him in.

...

The next morning Hugh was at his post behind the front desk at the police station, staring at the open newspaper on the desk. He was shaking his head slightly when Jack came in the front door for the day.

"What is it Collins?"

Hugh was startled out of his thoughts. "Good morning sir. Ummm. I'm just reading a story Dottie and Jane were reading last night. They were both crying but I can't figure out why."

Jack scanned the article quickly and made the logical assumption. Oh lord. All three of them at the same time?

"Collins. Hmmm. Maybe it's their time of the month? Some women get very emotional then." Huh. It was almost easy to talk about this.

Hugh looked baffled again. "Yes sir. That's sort of what Mr. Butler said, sir." Now Hugh looked even more baffled. "But sir? How did you know?"

Jack just raised his eyebrows at his constable and headed to his office.

-ooo-

_A/N: Sorry, I just could not resist having all three ladies in sync. If you watch Big Bang Theory you'll know why._

_According a random site on the internet, the word 'period' was not used in a television commercial until 1985. I find that hard to believe but since everything on the internet is true I might change the word to 'cycle' in the previous chapter._

_According to WebMD, you need to keep a diaphragm in place for six to eight hours __**after**__ intercourse. And if you have intercourse again before the six to eight hours is up you need to use more spermicide every time. _

_Rewatch 'Death Comes Knocking.' I'm convinced Phryne's pajamas and dressing gown never came off, regardless of the shot of the moon inserted to suggest otherwise. If she took her pajamas off, did she really have time to put them __**and**__ her dressing gown back on when Dot started screaming? _

_And last, but not least. You're right. Phryne did not tell Jack any reasons why he was wonderful or enchanting in this chapter. But she definitely thought he was._


	7. Lady Somebody's Ball Gown

_Thank you so, so much for your reviews. And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming of fluff and innuendo…_

-ooo-

_Friday evening. It's the middle of October._

Mr. Butler saw Jack through the dining room window and opened the front door for him.

"Good evening Inspector, it's good to see you again. Miss Fisher is upstairs with Miss Williams, although I don't think they're doing any housekeeping this time. Miss Fisher asked me to give you a drink and tell you to go up when you arrive. And would you let Miss Williams know Constable Collins has arrived and is waiting for her in the kitchen?"

Jack allowed himself a little smile as he traded Mr. Butler a drink for his hat and overcoat. The last time he was greeted with a phrase like "Miss Fisher and Miss Williams are upstairs" he became the proud owner of a set of keys to Phryne's house before the evening was over.

Drink in hand, Jack headed upstairs to Phryne's bedroom wondering what she and Dot could be up to. The last time he saw Phryne was Tuesday morning and they'd barely spoken on the phone since then. It had been a long week and he was more than ready for a good meal, some good whiskey, and an armful or lapful of The Honorable Phryne Fisher – and not necessarily in that order. He had the drink; it remained to be seen which came next.

When Jack reached the bedroom door he leaned against the door jamb, took a sip of his drink, and surveyed the room. Phryne was wearing the ball gown she modeled at the House of Fleuri. He hadn't seen her wear it since then and, as she walked to the mirror and struck a few poses, it dawned on him there was something very intriguing about the dress. Dot came up behind her mistress and looked triumphant when she removed the complicated webbing of jeweled ribbons from Phryne's shoulders.

Phryne turned and smiled at Jack when she heard his soft rap on the door. "Jack! I'm so glad to see you! I'm trying to decide what to wear to the theater when we take Jane in a couple of weeks. I love this dress but it was _not_ meant for sitting. It's for dancing and standing only."

Dot smiled a greeting to Jack and started to pick up after her mistress but Jack gently intervened. "Miss Williams, Mr. Butler asked me to tell you Collins is in the kitchen waiting for you. I'll help Miss Fisher."

Jack waited until Dot had closed the door behind her. Then he kissed Phryne hello, taking a few moments to brush kisses on each shoulder, thankfully now bare. He took another sip of his drink, set it down, and sat on the washstand bench. He needed to see if his guess was correct. "Walk toward me, please Phryne. Slowly."

Phryne gave Jack a quizzical little look but did as he asked. He watched appreciatively as she walked and when she reached him he kissed her hand. "Now turn and walk so I can see you from the side." She gave him another little look, coquettish this time, but she complied, trailing tulle around the room. Something was definitely piquing his interest and she was more than willing to indulge him. She looked back at him and saw he had the look on his face he got when he was figuring something out. "Now back to me again with your hand on your hip – the same way you walked when you modeled this dress."

This time when Phryne reached Jack he kissed both of her hands and smiled up at her.

Phryne fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Well Inspector? Do you still think this dress is dangerous?"

"Absolutely, Miss Fisher. It's also a very complicated dress. I don't see how you _could_ sit down in it with that huge bow or whatever it is in the back and I'm not sure how to get you _out_ of it. But it's also a very clever dress. From the front and the side it looks like you aren't wearing anything at all underneath. Madame Fleuri has far more imagination than I ever gave her credit for."

Phryne didn't say a word in response – she knew Madame Fleuri 's secrets and she had one of her own – but she raised a smiling eyebrow at her inspector and waited for all the pieces of the puzzle to click in place.

"The pattern on the – what is this? lace? – the pattern on the lace is placed _very_ strategically. Here…" Jack brushed his thumbs over the first pattern in question and found exactly what he thought he would find – two nipples rising to greet him through small embroidered leaves. "And here…" he trailed down her ribs and brushed his thumbs over the larger lace panel covering her navel. "And then there's this…" he trailed his hands over her hips, thumbs following the line of cording to the apex of her thighs. "And when you walk…" this time he ran his hands from the top of her thighs past the hem of the dress down to her ankles "…your legs are outlined perfectly. From here…" he ran his hands up her legs under the underskirt of thin, flesh-colored silk all the way past the tops of her stockings to her bare hips "...to here." He _really_ loved being able to do this.

"Inspector?"

"Mmmm." He was still enjoying the bare skin under his palms and fingertips. "Yes, Miss Fisher?"

Phryne reached behind her back and fiddled with something. After a couple of seconds she presented Jack with an armful of tulle. "The straps have little hooks. And the bow and train do too."

Jack looked at the puff of fabric in his lap and back up at Phryne with same expression of thinly veiled desire he had when he returned her Colombian emeralds. But he knew he was still missing something. He released Phryne's hips and took a deep breath. "Turn around, please Phryne. I need to watch you walk away. Slowly."

Oh lord. With the bow and the train removed Phryne's bottom was also perfectly outlined when she walked. Madame Fleuri was a genius. This might be the best dress ever invented.

Phryne turned to face Jack and walked back toward him, hand on hip, speaking as she walked. "I've told you before you're very good at guessing, Inspector. I'll add that to your wonderful list since you guessed the secrets of this dress." She saw Jack's eyes widen when he realized what was missing. "And I think you just guessed my secret" she said as she stood before him and started undoing the hooks on the side of the dress. She let it fall to the floor in a cloud of lace and silk. "Were you right? What would you like me to add to the enchanted list?"

-ooo-

_Saturday morning_

On Saturday morning the inspector's hat and overcoat were not on the hooks in the entry hall so Dot carried a tray with tea and toast up to Phryne's bedroom. She knocked first and waited a few moments before she opened the door, just in case. "Good morning Miss" she said as she carefully set the tray on the side of the bed.

Phryne stretched and plumped the pillows so she could sit up in bed. "Dot! Good morning. Don't worry - the Inspector had to be at the station early this morning. I want to see the Fleuri sisters today about a new dress for when we take Jane to the theater. Let's leave around 10 and we can have lunch wherever you like afterward. Oh and Dot, I want to take the lilac dress with us. Would you get it out of the wardrobe?"

The House of Fleuri receptionist ushered Phryne and Dot in to a private room and the Fleuri sisters came in just a few minutes later.

Phryne cut straight to the chase after all of them exchanged pleasantries. "Ladies, I know it's _very_ short notice but I need a new dress to wear to the theater in two weeks and I think the combination of your talents is needed. I'd like the dress to have the fit and movement of this one – Dot uncovered the lilac dress – but I don't know what I want as far as a new color and fabric. Do you want me to put the dress on so you can see exactly what I'm talking about?

"That would be a good idea, Miss Fisher" agreed Madame Fleuri. "It's a very simple dress and I know we still have the original pattern, but seeing the dress on you will allow us to get a better idea of what you want very quickly. If you will put the dress on, I'll go see what we have in the sewing room."

Renée helped Dot get Phryne into the lilac dress. As they worked, Renée asked Phryne why she wanted to copy a dress she already owned instead of getting something new and different. "Renée, I always believed a woman should dress for her own pleasure but I've found there is _a_ _lot_ of pleasure in hearing a man tell you which of your dresses he likes because he thinks your bottom looks gorgeous in them. And the same man will be escorting me to the theater." She gave Renée a conspiratorial little grin. "What would you do?"

Renée laughed and nodded. "I would go with the gorgeous choice, Miss Fisher."

Madame Fleuri came back with a bolt of dark blue silk velvet and a bolt of pale gold silk charmeuse. "The velvet really isn't a warm weather fabric, Miss Fisher, but it would be perfectly fine for a dress without sleeves and it is a more formal fabric. And of course silk velvet feels wonderful to the touch. The charmeuse would look wonderful with your skin and hair and would be a very good choice for the warmer months ahead. Of course it isn't as quite as formal but it does have a gorgeous shimmer and also feels wonderful. Renée, would you help?"

The sisters unfurled each bolt so they could drape the fabrics from Phryne's shoulders almost to the floor.

Dot thought for a moment and looked at Phryne. "Miss, I like the velvet." she whispered.

Renée thought for a moment and caught Phryne's eye. A little smile was playing on her lips. "I think the charmeuse would be gorgeous with your white fur wrap, Miss Fisher."

"Charmeuse," Phryne said. "And ladies, would you make the shoulder straps very narrow? And add hooks to the straps?"

...

Phryne and Dot were on their way to lunch when Phryne remembered something. "Dot, I need to stop after lunch and get some more note paper and envelopes. I used the last of my stationery this morning." I'll get some for Jack too, she thought.


	8. Ball Gown Redux

_Ummm. So this is not the tuxedo chapter after all. _

_Some of you may remember I said the universe talked to me a lot when I was writing The Charm of One Detail. It has been talking to me in the course of writing this story too and it told me to walk away from the tuxedo chapter for a few days. It also told me you might like to know what happened after Phryne's gown dropped to the floor. It turns out I wanted to know too._

_Thank you so much for telling me what you liked about the previous chapters! I hope you like this one too._

-ooo-

_The morning after Phryne's ball gown dropped to the floor in a cloud of lace and silk_

Good lord it was hard to get out of bed this morning Jack thought as he locked Phryne's front door and stepped off the porch.

He really didn't mind having to be at the station early on a Saturday morning, but he hadn't had a lot of sleep the night before and the preceding days had been long and busy. Not being able to call on Phryne to help run down information or pick her brain for details about any number of things whenever he wanted meant he and Collins had to work harder and longer to arrive at the same result. It had occurred to him he should document exactly how much Phryne had contributed to his investigations over the course of their acquaintance. The information would probably be very useful if he ever needed to defend that aspect of their relationship. So he and Phryne started a document several weeks ago and they worked on it for a couple of hours after dinner last night.

This afternoon, he thought, I'll go to the police gym and work some of the kinks out. Usually he went during the week to work off the stress from the day and the effects of Mr. Butler's cooking and Phryne's liquor from the weekend. Then I'll come back here and relax with a book or the newspaper for a while.

Satisfied he had a workable plan for the day, Jack strode down the front walk and closed the front gate quietly behind him. When he kissed Phryne good-bye he told her to go back to sleep and he was a little surprised how much he missed having her blow a kiss to him as he reached the gate. He shoved his hands in his overcoat pockets but instead of empty pocket his right hand encountered something unexpected. He pulled out a slightly crumpled envelope with his name written in Phryne's handwriting. When did that get there? He thought he knew what the contents concerned – the real question was whether he should open it now or wait until later. He had a full morning ahead of him and it would be a lot easier to get through it if he wasn't distracted.

Who was he kidding? He was always distracted these days. He'd just learned to manage it a lot better. But he decided to wait until he was sitting at his desk to open the envelope.

...

The moment Jack thought the word 'distracted' an image of Phryne standing in front of him popped into his head.

He had many, many mental images of Phryne, some of which had sustained him in the weeks and months before they became lovers. But this one ranked with the extra special images – her fan dance, the painting, pulling up her skirt to reach her dagger. In this one, she had a cloud of ball gown at her feet and she was completely naked with the exception of her garter belt and stockings. He had swallowed hard then and he did again now as he remembered.

When he wandered upstairs yesterday evening and saw her in Lady Somebody's dress he knew he would eventually get to the lingerie underneath. And he had – just far, far less of it than he expected.

The first clue came when his fingers did not meet the usual silky fluttery hem of knickers when he reached under the frothy gown and ran his hands up Phryne's legs past the tops of her stockings to her hips. All his fingers found there was bare skin.

The second clue was Phryne telling him he'd guessed the secrets of the dress and then asking if he'd guessed her secret. Bare skin. Her secret. How were these two connected? He was thoroughly enjoying being able to reach under Phryne's skirt but he was also still trying to work out how a dress could make her look like she was wearing nothing at all underneath. It was exactly how she'd looked when she modeled the dress at the House of Fleuri and when he returned her jewelry. What was different? What was he missing?

His fingers already knew what his brain had not yet processed when she started undoing the hooks on the side of the dress. There had only been bare skin under his palms and the silk underskirt of the dress brushing his knuckles. That had to be it. Oh. _Oh_.

The last piece of the puzzle clicked into place and he knew what to expect before Phryne unfastened enough hooks for the top of the dress to slip past her bare breasts. When the hooks were all undone and the dress fell to the floor, he knew the image would take its place with the most erotic of the lot. What surprised him was what happened next. Normally he sked Phryne what she wanted. This time he didn't ask – he helped her step out of the dress and settled her on the bed and lavished attention on her stocking-clad legs and her dark curls.

...

Jack opened the envelope and read Phryne's note as soon as he was sitting behind his desk.

_Jack,_

_Put 'guessing' in both columns. You guessed exactly what I wanted you to do._

_P._

...

Phryne found Jack reading the newspaper in the study, feet on the ottoman, tie loosened and top button undone. As usual, his waistcoat was still buttoned. As usual, Jack smiled when he saw her at the door. He folded the newspaper and tossed it on the desk while she closed the door behind her and crossed the room and dropped lightly into his lap. Her arms around his neck, his around her waist, they shared their first kiss of the afternoon. "Jack!" "Miss Fisher!" Then another kiss, and another, Phryne's fingers caressing Jack's neck under his open collar, undoing the next button, Jack's hands at her waist pulling her closer. It was a ritual they had begun very early on in their relationship and Phryne enjoyed it as much as Jack did.

Phryne grinned and fluttered her eyelashes at her lover. "I'm very glad to see you Inspector! Did you find my note?"

Jack quirked an eyebrow at her and ran his hand up her leg to the soft skin above her stocking. "I did Miss Fisher. Presumably you wrote it and put it in my coat pocket before we went upstairs last night?"

Phryne nodded and wiggled in Jack's arms and handed him a small package. "I brought you something Jack. So you don't have to tear pages out of your notebook."

Jack fished a folded piece of notebook paper out of his waistcoat pocket and handed it to Phryne. "It was a lucky guess this time. We wanted the same thing."

-ooo-

_A/N: The tuxedo chapter is in the works. The universe told me I could go back to it when I finished this chapter._


	9. Black Tie

_Ta da! Here is my version of 'Jack in a tuxedo.' Thanks for indulging me while I stumbled my way to it. I can't believe how much this chapter fought back. I'm pretty sure it's going to fight back even after I post it. If it does, I'll let you know what I tweak. In the meantime, the universe says "post this thing before you decide to make one more change then go pour yourself a glass of prosecco to celebrate."_

_A box of the best virtual chocolate to everyone who figures out the *really* important clue in this chapter.  
_

-ooo-

When Jack arrived at his house after work he stripped down to his shorts, pulled his tuxedo, waistcoat, and dress shirt from their protective cover, found his black dress socks at the back of a drawer, and gave his black dress shoes a quick polish.

Then he tossed his shorts in the dirty clothes basket and headed to the bathroom to shave and wash. While he was shaving, he reviewed how the evening was supposed to proceed. The plan was for Phryne and Jane to drive to the theater together and he would meet them there. They still didn't trust the court of public opinion to understand they were perfectly capable of being colleagues _and_ lovers so they decided to keep a low profile for their evening out. If anyone was determined to discover their relationship they would easily be able to do so but they decided to come out of the shadows a little bit anyhow.

But there was a tiny hitch in all his careful planning, which he discovered as he untied the package of clean laundry he picked up earlier in the day. Damn. He hadn't picked up _all _of his laundry. How had this happened? Thank goodness he at least had clean shorts.

...

Jane was already dressed for her evening out; Dot had ironed her new dress and the ribbons for her hair and Jane was lounging in Phryne's bedroom watching all of the preparations involved with a lady getting ready to go out for the evening. She was fascinated by Phryne's dress – it wasn't sparkly at all but she thought her foster mother looked like something out of one of the art books downstairs.

Dot, however, still did not understand why her mistress hadn't chosen the velvet for her new dress. How often did anyone get to wear velvet? It would have been a much more glamorous choice. Miss Fisher's new dress looked almost like one of her nightgowns. The fabric was very soft and clingy and it caught the light where she had curves and … oh. Oh. Dot suddenly felt a blush suffuse her cheeks when she realized her mistress was dressing in preparation for being undressed.

...

When Jack entered the crowded theater lobby he immediately started looking for Phryne and Jane. He had no idea what color dress Phryne was wearing so he had to scan the entire space several times. His eye caught a brief glimmer but lost it. Then the crowd shifted and he saw the glimmer again. Phryne. Her dress was shimmering and she was a soft golden glow in a sea of dark dresses and darker tuxedos. He had the strangest feeling she was lighting the way for him to find her.

Phryne and Jane were just finishing their drinks – champagne for Phryne and lemonade for Jane – when Phryne saw Jack making his way through the crowd to them. She stopped and watched him walk to her, enchanted by how handsome he looks in a tuxedo and how happy she always is to see him. Oh my goodness, she thought, I really am in love with him. The thought still terrified her and excited her in equal parts and she took a deep breath to compose herself. Rushing into his arms in front of everyone in the lobby would definitely _not_ be low profile. When Jack finally reached her they gazed at each other for a few moments, utterly absorbed by the other. That probably wasn't low profile either but at the moment she really didn't care.

Jane looked at the two of them and realized they had completely forgotten she was there. This was amazing she thought. Even though Jack had admitted to her he loves Phryne, she had never seen them look at each other like this. So _this_ is what people in love look like. She gave them another couple of seconds and then cleared her throat before greeting Jack. She was going to enjoy this immensely.

"Hello Inspector! I've never seen you in a tuxedo before. He looks very handsome, doesn't he Miss Phryne?" Phryne's eyes never left Jack's. "Very handsome, Jane."

"And doesn't Miss Phryne look beautiful in her new dress Inspector?" Jack's eyes never left Phryne's. "Very beautiful, Jane."

Jack's eyebrow quirked and he gave Phryne a tiny smile before he turned to Jane. "You look very grown up Jane. Did you get a new dress too?" Jane nodded and felt a little disappointed she couldn't watch them a little while longer because Miss Phryne took her arm, winked at the Inspector and turned to lead the way to their seats.

Phryne had a feeling Jack would not mind following, and he didn't, not in the least. Phryne's white fur wrap had slipped down giving him an enticing view of her nearly bare shoulders and her dress moved like liquid gold hugging the curves of her hips and swirling around her ankles.

"Oh, these are the same seats we had for Dot's birthday." Phryne told Jane as they reached their box.

Jack felt a tiny quiver of panic when he realized he'd never asked what they were going to see. He was in such a hurry to get into the theater on time he didn't even notice what was on the marquee outside. "Please tell me you haven't tricked me in to another operetta Phryne."

Phryne grinned at Jack. "I've never tricked you into attending an operetta Jack. It's 'The Importance of Being Earnest.' Jane's English class has finished Shakespeare and they've moved on to Oscar Wilde."

Phryne made sure Jane was settled in her seat and had her program, and then Jack helped Phryne settle in her seat before he sat down behind her. When the house lights dimmed he leaned in very close to Phryne under the guise of reaching for her opera glasses. "You do look very beautiful tonight, Miss Fisher. Gorgeous, in fact" he murmured as he ran his fingertips up her bare forearm and under her fur wrap.

Phryne turned so she could see Jack out of the corner of her eye and smiled at him. "So do you Inspector. I couldn't tell you that the first time we were here. I'm glad I can tell you now."

...

Jane kept up a steady stream of commentary about the play most of the way home but eventually she started nodding off in mid-sentence, so Phryne sent her to bed when Mr. Butler opened the front door and greeted the three theatergoers. When Mr. Butler asked if there was anything he could get for the grownups, Phryne shook her head. "There's a bottle of champagne in the parlor Miss. I opened it when I heard the cars pull up outside. Good night Miss Fisher, Inspector."

Phryne gave Jack an 'Oooh, champagne' look and grabbed his hand and tugged him into the parlor. She tossed her fur wrap over the back of an armchair while Jack poured the champagne. When he handed her a glass she stood still and admired the vision before her. Jack Robinson, standing at her mantel as he has done dozens and dozens and dozens of times before, but this time in a tuxedo instead of a three-piece suit. She knew exactly what she wanted for her birthday.

Phryne joined Jack and raised her glass. "I would like to toast tuxedos. Particularly the tuxedo on the man in my parlor."

Jack shook his head slightly after they took a sip and raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm surprised you didn't toast Mark Antony. If it weren't for him I wouldn't be wearing this tuxedo. In fact I'm quite sure you knew exactly what I'd say when you asked me to put on that costume."

She gave him a look of mock indignation. "Jack, I can assure you I knew no such thing. You made the choice, not me."

Jack knew she was right and decided not to pursue that line any further. He touched his glass to hers instead. "I would like to toast the Fleuri sisters. I'm convinced those ladies are magicians when it comes to dresses."

He set his glass on the mantel and did the same with Phryne's glass. He lifted one arm above her head and turned her in a little pirouette so he could see the fabric catch the light in the room and define all her shimmering curves from all sides. "Jack Robinson, one of these days you're going to dance with me," she remarked.

Jack just smiled and caught her other hand and pressed a kiss to a shoulder. "They've made your shoulders even more gorgeous too." He gently pushed the narrow strap aside and pressed an unbroken trail of kisses all the way to her neck until he reached her long earring. He paused for just a second, considering how best to get to her neck unhindered. Hmmm. He tucked her hair behind her ear and very gently removed her earring and placed it on the mantel. Phryne tilted her head so Jack could continue his attention up her neck. He put the strap back in place and paid the same attention to her other shoulder, slipping her strap out of the way, removing her earring, kissing up to her ear. "Mmmm. I wanted to do this the entire time I was sitting behind you at the theater. What play did you and Jane see? I was completely distracted. And far too warm." Jack took off his tux jacket and tossed it on the closest armchair.

"And now I'm distracted. Surely you'd be less warm if you weren't so buttoned up?" Phryne removed the cuff links from Jack's cuffs and placed them on the mantel with her earrings before turning up his cuffs a couple of times on each sleeve. She ran her hands up his forearms and back down and placed his hands on her hips, pulling closer to him so their tummies were just barely touching. Then she started playing with his tie.

"Jack, I'm very impressed with how well you tie a bow tie. It's perfect." She pulled one end. "I almost feel guilty undoing all your hard work" she said as she did just that and unbuttoned his top two buttons. Untying Jack's ties and unbuttoning his top buttons were two of her favorite things to do. She caressed his now bare neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss the hollow at the base of his throat. She felt very proud of herself for showing restraint when she caught his scent and concentrated on admiring the results of her untying and unbuttoning. She reached for her glass of champagne and took a sip. "Very nice."

"Miss Fisher, it's still very warm in here."

"Well you're still overdressed, Inspector. Anyone could see that." Phryne looked up at Jack from under her eyelashes and put her glass down. Then she quirked an eyebrow and took his glass and set it on the mantel too. "Perhaps your waistcoat could keep your tuxedo jacket company? Allow me." She unbuttoned the three small buttons at Jack's waist and slid her palms over his chest and pushed his waistcoat off one shoulder, then the other. "Better?" she asked as she laid the garment with his coat.

"Mmmm. Let me check." Jack gently pulled Phryne close so he could nuzzle her neck again run his hands over her back and bottom. "I do like this dress."

"You still feel a little warm to me Jack. Let's try this" and Phryne started unbuttoning the next buttons on his shirt. Her eyebrows shot up as a glorious expanse of his bare chest appeared as she undid buttons. "What's this? No undershirt?"

Jack looked a little abashed. "I was so busy at the station today I forgot to pick up all of my laundry. I'll have to …"

"Jack Robinson if you never wear an undershirt again it will be too soon. This is a wonderful surprise." Phryne quickly unbuttoned the remaining buttons on Jack's shirt, pulling his shirttails free as she did. She buried her nose in Jack's chest while her hands roamed over his bare skin. There was absolutely nothing in this world she loved more than Jack's scent. Well, that wasn't quite true, but she almost always got to everything else she loved once she removed enough layers to get to his chest.

A giggle bubbled up and it struck her as incredibly funny a lack of clean laundry was completely derailing her plans for seducing Jack. She ordered this dress as much for herself as for him; she had been very much looking forward to the ensuing unhooking after he paid sufficient attention to her bottom and shoulders and neck in her new dress. Who cares at this point she thought to herself as she started pulling his braces and shirt off his shoulders. She needed as much of his skin as she could get to. Right this second.

After several minutes of breathless, near-frantic embraces Jack pulled away from Phryne abruptly and pulled his shirt and braces back up to his shoulders. "Phryne. Let's take this upstairs, please. I'd really rather not lose my trousers in the parlor."

"Good idea Jack. You were about to lose your shorts in the parlor too."

Phryne handed Jack the champagne bottle and his glass and grabbed her glass and one of his braces. "Let's go," she said, practically tugging him out of the room.

Jack stopped just short of the foot of the stairs. "You first, Phryne. I want to admire your new dress as you go upstairs. Besides, I'm not entirely sure I trust you behind me."

...

Phryne poured the very last of the champagne and handed Jack one of the glasses. "Jack, I know this is going to break my system of balancing wonderful and enchanting entries. I think I have to give you two enchanted entries tonight."

"Mmmm?"

"Yes. The first is you in a tuxedo. The second is you not in a tuxedo."

"And how am I wonderful, if I may be so bold as to inquire?"

"Jack. For going to the theater with Jane and me, of course. And not grumbling about wearing your tuxedo. Oh. We are balanced after all."

-ooo-

_A/N: There. It's done. I feel like Frodo Baggins writing the last bit of Bilbo's book in 'Return of the King.' _

_A Google search along the lines of "oscar wilde plays in melbourne in 1930" returned a Wikipedia result that Oscar Wilde's "downfall in England did not affect the popularity of his plays in Australia" so I figured 'The Importance of Being Earnest' was a relatively safe choice for Jane's English class. It premiered in Melbourne in August 1895. _


	10. Tea with Aunt P

_Thank you so much for your reviews of 'Jack in his tuxedo without undershirt and Phryne in her golden dress with lingerie.' I'm glad you liked it.  
_

_The answer to the important clue is in the note from Camellia below._

-ooo-

During the week after she and Jack and Jane went to the theater, Phryne received more correspondence than usual.

In addition to the usual requests from philanthropic organizations, invitations to fundraisers, and requests for assistance from the lady detective, she also received notes from several friends…

_Phryne,_

_You looked divine at the theater the other night. Who were you with? Bobby thinks it was Inspector Robinson but I don't believe him. Where were you during the interval? We looked for you but couldn't find you. Let's have lunch soon._

_Charles_

_..._

_Phryne,_

_That was Inspector Robinson you were with at the theater the other night, wasn't it? Charles doesn't believe me. He'll call you to arrange a lunch date._

_Bobby_

_P.S. You looked beautiful._

_..._

_Dear Miss Fisher,_

_Lin and I saw you at the theater the other night. I'm sorry we did not have the opportunity to speak with you during the interval or afterwards. Lin said the silver lady is now the golden lady. I assume you know what he meant by that?_

_Camellia_

...

And then there was the telephone call from her Aunt Prudence on Friday morning.

"Phryne."

"Aunt Prudence. How nice to hear from …"

"Yes, yes, yes. Phryne, there's something we need to discuss. I've heard from several acquaintances who saw you and Jane, with a man, at the theater the other night. Please tell me the man was Inspector Robinson."

Phryne decided honesty was the best policy. At the very least she could hold the receiver away from her ear if the decibel level got too high. And she could even roll her eyes if she needed to. "Yes, Aunt P, 'the man' was Jack. And there's something you need to know. Jack and I…"

"Of course you are Phryne. I wasn't born yesterday and I'm not blind. I've seen the way you two look at each other. If you and the Inspector are going to be seen in public with Jane then Miss Williams needs to accompany you. And if Miss Williams isn't available _I_ will accompany the three of you."

This conversation was_ not _progressing the way Phryne anticipated when she first heard her aunt's voice on the line and she could barely sputter out "Aunt Prudence?"

"Phryne, please don't argue with me. All I know is that I haven't heard a peep from anyone about you doing anything shocking or scandalous for weeks. Months, even. I can only draw one conclusion."

"And that is?"

"Inspector Robinson has somehow managed to make you behave yourself. He isn't my first choice for you, but I do appreciate not having to constantly excuse outrageous behavior from you every time I turn around. I simply told everyone Miss Williams took ill suddenly and couldn't accompany you and the Inspector is a very good friend of the family. After all, he did find Janie's killer. And he did solve Bernadette's murder and rescued Joan and those other poor girls. And the next time I hear 'The Twelve Days of Christmas' I won't think I'm going mad."

Phryne opened her mouth to protest she most certainly had _not_ been made to behave and she was _just_ as instrumental in solving those cases as Jack _and_ Jack was the best possible choice for her, especially compared to the so-called eligible men her aunt kept trying to introduce her to. But she thought better of protesting. Having her aunt on her and Jack's side would be a huge advantage. Prudence Stanley could be a formidable shaper of public opinion when she wanted to be.

"I want you to come for tea on Saturday Phryne. Bring the Inspector and Jane and Miss Williams. Arthur wants to see Jane and she can stay the night. I will see she gets back to school on Sunday."

It wasn't quite a command but it was more than a request. Phryne decided to acquiesce gracefully. "We'll be there Aunt Prudence."

"And Phryne?"

"Yes Aunt Prudence?"

"I hear the Inspector cuts quite a fine figure in a tuxedo. That never hurts. I will see you on Saturday."

"Good-bye, Aunt Prudence." Phryne put the telephone receiver down and let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

...

Phryne waited until she was sitting on Jack's lap and had loosened his tie and unbuttoned his top buttons before she told him what they would be doing tomorrow afternoon. "Jack?"

Jack reluctantly stopped concentrating on Phryne's finger caressing his neck, but he kept his eyes closed. "Mmmm?"

"I bought you some more shorts and undershirts. They've been laundered and they're on your shelf in the wardrobe."

Jack's eyes snapped open. He was astounded at the thought of The Honorable Phryne Fisher, standing at the menswear counter of the local department store, buying him underwear. "Why? How did you know what sizes to buy?"

"I measured what you have here of course. What else would I do? Take your underwear with me and compare? Although that may have been easier and quicker, now that I think about it. Don't worry. I took Dot with me. We could have been buying underwear for anyone. As much as I enjoyed you not wearing an undershirt the other night, I thought it might be a good idea to have some more on hand in case you have a laundry mix up again. You can take half of them home with you."

There was really nothing to say except "Thank you Phryne. That was very thoughtful of you." He closed his eyes again and went back to enjoying Phryne's caresses.

"Anyway, you may need the extra shorts after Aunt Prudence is finished with us tomorrow."

Jack's eyes snapped open again. "Phryne? What's happening tomorrow?"

"We've been invited, well it's more of a command performance, really, to tea with Aunt Prudence. At her house. Jane is coming with us so she can see Arthur and spend the night and Dot is coming with us for appearance's sake."

"So your aunt knows about us?"

"She knows something and she implied she knows more. Several of her acquaintances reported to her they'd seen us at the theater. She's telling people you're a very good friend of the family and reminding them of all the murders you've solved that directly affected her. Apparently they also told her how nice you look in a tuxedo. _And_ Aunt P told me you've made me behave myself. Ha. That's just ridiculous." Phryne was silent for a moment, fuming slightly at the thought that anyone, even Jack, was seen as making her behave. "Jack, don't think for a moment..."

Jack just closed his eyes again and pulled Phryne closer. "Phryne, those are your aunt's words, not mine. I hope you know by now I love you exactly as you are." Since there was absolutely nothing else he could say that wouldn't get him into trouble Jack decided to kiss her until she stopped fuming.

...

Phryne squeezed Jack's hand before she rang the bell at Mrs. Stanley's front door. Jack squeezed back and they gave each other a long look for moral support just before the door opened. Jane and Dot gave each other their own long look when they saw the look and the squeeze from their position behind Jack and Phryne.

The butler collected coats and hats and told them to go through to Mrs. Stanley in the parlor. Phryne felt a tiny bit reassured by the slight pressure of Jack's hand on the small of her back as she preceded him into the room and greeted her aunt, trying to act as if coming to tea with Jack in tow was the most natural thing in the world.

Mrs. Stanley and Jack looked each other straight in the eye and for a split second she looked as though her familiar scowl was going to appear. Then her expression softened just a bit. "Hello Inspector" she said, "I'm glad you were able to join us."

"Mrs. Stanley," Jack replied gravely, "thank you for your kind invitation."

Arthur appeared at the door to the parlor and Phryne and Jane went over to greet him, then Mrs. Stanley instructed her son. "Arthur, say hello to Inspector Robinson and then take Jane and Miss Williams to the kitchen for your tea."

Arthur stepped into the room and approached Jack. Jack didn't know whether Arthur would remember him or not but he figured it didn't really matter. He extended his hand and said "Hello Arthur. I'm Jack Robinson."

Arthur was very pleased to be treated like a grown-up. All of his mother's patient and loving training kicked in and he shook Jack's hand almost perfectly. He looked at Jack for a few moments and a smile lit up his face. "I remember you. You're Phryne's friend. You helped look for the woodcutter."

"Yes Arthur, I _am_ Phryne's friend" Jack smiled back as he responded.

Jane came up to Arthur and took his arm. "Come on Arthur. Let's go to the kitchen."

Mrs. Stanley and Phryne were watching the exchange between the two men. Mrs. Stanley had endured a lot of criticism and whispering over the years about Arthur living at home with her instead of in an institution and she was very pleased to see how the Inspector treated her son. Phryne could not have been more proud of Jack for the way he greeted Arthur but she wasn't surprised in the least.

The two women turned and looked at each other until they were interrupted by the maids bringing tea.

Mrs. Stanley waited until they were seated, the tea had been poured, and the maids had returned to the kitchen. "I'll get straight to the point. Unless you two are prepared to get married, or at least become engaged, you must be very, very discreet." She waited until Phryne and Jack quit choking on their tea and put their cups down.

Phryne tried to respond but her aunt stopped her. "Phryne, I _do_ know you've been discreet. But when Jane is with you, you must be the epitome of discretion. You already know that."

"Aunt Prudence…" Phryne started but her aunt interrupted her again.

"Phryne, when you returned to this country I regarded protecting your reputation as a responsibility of mine. Since you have become involved with the Inspector that task has been much easier." She gave Jack a slightly pained, embarrassed look, as though she was apologizing for bringing this up in his presence. As if to make up for it, she told Jack how much she appreciated his efforts with cases that involved her family. Then she turned back to Phryne with a steady stare. "We must think of Jane's reputation too."

"Aunt Prudence…" Phryne started but this time Jack interrupted her. He took her hand and smiled his tiny smile at her and turned to Mrs. Stanley.

"Mrs. Stanley, I'm sure Phryne will let us know if she ever wants to get engaged or married. Until then, we will conduct ourselves as you suggested when Jane is with us.

Phryne decided it was time to change the subject. "How are Guy and Isabella, Aunt Prudence?" She and Jack would look like angels compared to those two.

...

Mrs. Stanley allowed herself to relax for a few minutes after Phryne and Jack and Dot left. Phryne's behavior before she became involved with the Inspector was often troublesome and the last few quiet months had been a very welcome respite. So now she needed to think of ways to overcome objections to the Inspector's divorce, lack of money, and non-existent social standing. She had some very difficult tasks ahead of her but they were not insurmountable, given time and effort.

...

Everyone was lost in their own thoughts so the drive home was very, very quiet. When Mr. Butler opened the front door Phryne and Dot and Jack were still quiet as they filed in to the house.

Dot went straight to the kitchen with Mr. Butler and closed the door behind her. "Well, that went better than I thought it would" she said to him as she pulled off her gloves. "I don't know what was said but I didn't hear Miss Fisher or Mrs. Stanley raise their voices."

As soon as she heard the kitchen door close Phryne slipped her arms around Jack's waist. "Well, that went better than I thought it would. You handled Aunt Prudence wonderfully, Jack. And thank you for treating Arthur so nicely."

Jack pulled Phryne closer and tucked her head under his chin. He decided to risk teasing her a little. "Phryne, it's easier to manage your aunt when you behave yourself."

-ooo-

_A/N: N__ow everyone in Jack and Phryne's very close circle knows about their relationship, even Aunt Prudence, who suspected for a long time but didn't want to know. The rest of the world suspects but still doesn't need to know._

_Aunt Prudence has decided the best defense is a good offense. However, if she thinks she can manage Phryne and Jack she has another think coming. But I'd rather she was on their side than not. We'll see how it goes._


	11. We weren't a good match

_Thank you for your thoughts on Aunt P! She's often bossy and overbearing but there's a lot more to her than meets the eye, I think._

_While the Aunt P storyline steeps for a bit Phryne and Jack had an important conversation when they got home._

-ooo-

Phryne extricated herself from under Jack's chin and gave him an 'I'm not ready to be teased' look so he kissed her cheek and loosened his grip.

He busied himself with hanging up his coat and helped Phryne with hers and decided to let her be until she either regained her equanimity or let him know what was on her mind.

He, however, could use a drink. He wandered in to the parlor and poured one for himself and one for Phryne when she followed him in a few minutes later.

The last time he'd been subjected to a family-related grilling was years ago and it was nerve-wracking. This one had been relatively mild, all things considered. He was relieved Mrs. Stanley knew about his and Phryne's relationship and all she seemed to be asking for was discretion where Jane was involved. Actually it was a reasonable request.

He thought he'd handled the engaged/married issue with Mrs. Stanley fairly well. If the kind of relationship he and Phryne had now was an indication of what marriage could be like he would love to be married to her, but for the moment he was content to let their relationship progress on its current path. They were both getting used to being loved and in a committed relationship and look how far they'd come in a few short months.

But if anyone knew marriage was no guarantee of happiness it was him, and he could understand Phryne's objections, more than just a little bit. Society couldn't care less when he and Rosie were unhappily married but it did object to him and Phryne being happily unmarried.

...

Phryne took the drink Jack handed her and walked over to the window seat. Damn it. Why did marriage always have to come up?

She had spent most of her adult life actively avoiding and sidestepping the ridiculous constraints society placed on women. She was perfectly capable of handling her own affairs and money and running her own life, thank you very much. She did not need a man to tell her what she could do and when she could do it.

Through a series of heated arguments and promises she had managed to extricate herself from most of her father's control. Marriage would simply place her under the control of another man. The thought of being subordinate in any relationship had appalled her for so long it had become part of her psyche to fight against the first hint of it.

She was thankful Jack had so neatly deflected her aunt's comment about them getting married or engaged. But she knew her aunt was technically right about Jane and she wasn't particularly happy with their choices. Never include Jane again. Include Jane but always be accompanied by Dot or Aunt P. Get engaged so they could include Jane without Dot or Aunt P. And of course the getting married choice. Damn it. She let out a heavy sigh.

...

Phryne's heavy sigh startled Jack out of his thoughts. She was sitting on the window seat, staring blindly at the world outside. Jack walked over to her and she looked up at him with a small, tight smile. She looked so tense he motioned for her to scoot over a little so he could sit next to her. Once seated, he started rubbing her shoulders in an attempt to help her relax.

After a few minutes she shifted so she could lean back against him. "Jack, you really did handle Aunt P very well. Thank you again." She reached up to her shoulders so she could hold his hands.

"I didn't think it wasn't the time or the place to discuss something with your aunt we haven't even talked about."

"Before we talk about us I'd like to know what happened between you and Rosie. All I really know is what you've told me in dribs and drabs. And at some point soon we need to talk about what she's going to do now that her life has fallen apart. I can't imagine it not affecting you in some way."

Jack had been thinking about what happened between him and Rosie for quite a long time and he was glad Phryne finally broached the subject. He decided to stay where he was even though he couldn't watch her reactions. But he shifted so he could put his arms her and keep holding her hands.

"The short answer is we weren't a good match – not in the ways that were important to either one of us. She believed her role was to provide a nice home for us and raise our children. And I thought that too, in the beginning. But we didn't start a family right away and she wasn't pregnant when I shipped out. When I got back it took all of my energy just to cope with still being alive and physically unscathed when so many others weren't. Rosie thought I should be able to put everything behind me and forget it all and pick up where we left off. I just couldn't..." His voice trailed off and Phryne felt his hands tighten on hers a little, as if he was unconsciously tethering himself to her to avoid delving too deeply into his memories of the war. She answered with an encouraging squeeze but sat very still, wondering what would come next.

It was several moments before he relaxed and started speaking again. "Maybe if we'd had children it would've been easier for her. At least she would've had something to devote herself to. Her sense of self-worth was very much tied to being the best wife and mother she could be. Instead all she had to show for being married was a morose husband and an empty nursery." Again his voice trailed off and his hands tightened. Phryne answered with another encouraging squeeze, wondering if he'd ever spoken any of these words out loud before.

"When we got married I didn't realize how important having a partner of the mind would be to me." She could hear the tiniest hint of a smile in his voice and she closed her eyes as she felt him rest his cheek on her head. She leaned into him and brushed her thumbs over his knuckles. "I knew Rosie wasn't particularly intellectually minded but it never occurred to her to even try and that disappointed me. Things between us were already in a fragile state when I decided to participate in the police strike against her and her father's wishes. I think she thought her world had fallen apart completely.

After a while it just took too much energy to maintain the façade and she left to live with her sister. She came back twice, but when the strike didn't end well I just had too much to think about to pay her the kind of attention she deserved. I think she finally realized I wasn't ever going to be like her father and she decided not to come back a third time. Honestly, it was a relief by that point because until she fell in love with Fletcher I think we would have lived that way for the rest of our lives. I'm glad she was brave enough to ask for a divorce… not just for my sake, but for her sake too."

Jack shifted and slipped his arms around Phryne's waist. "That's the short version, Phryne. When I'm with you I feel like myself before marriage and the war. From what I could see, Rosie seemed to be very happy with Fletcher before she found out he's a crooked bastard. I hope she has developed some reserves of strength and resourcefulness because otherwise I don't know how she can recover from what he and her father have done."

...

While Jack was speaking Phryne was listening intently, trying to determine whether his account of what happened matched with what she imagined had happened. Months ago, when he revealed he was estranged from his wife and confessed to living apart from her, she guessed they simply could not overcome whatever deep chasm had grown between them.

At the time it seemed to her a tragedy that such a good man had lost a chance at happiness and her heart nearly broke for him when she toasted his sense of honor, his eyes dark and sad until the ghost of a wistful smile appeared on his lips. Now she knew why it was a tragedy for Rosie too and she felt deeply saddened for both of them.

But she understood the need for intellectual attraction as well as physical attraction. One without the other was not a basis for a long-term relationship, much less a marriage. If the kind of relationship she and Jack had now was an indication of what marriage could be, it might not be such a fearsome thing.

She decided to let that thought simmer for a while. They didn't need to decide anything this evening or tomorrow or anytime soon, really. She took a deep breath.

"Thank you for telling me Jack. Until we are ready to talk about us, let's do what Aunt P suggested. When we want to include Jane in our plans, we'll bring Dot or invite Aunt P."

"Good plan, Miss Fisher. Now what are we doing for the rest of the evening? It's Mr. Butler's night off isn't it? What are our plans for dinner? Out or in?"

"Yes, it's Mr. Butler's night off." She pushed Jack's cuff back so she could see his watch. "He should be leaving in a little while. And Dot will be going out with Hugh…" Her expression was considerably brighter than it was a few minutes earlier.

"And Jane isn't here…" Jack added. His expression was brighter too.

"Dinner in" they said at the same time.


	12. New Underwear

_Thank you for your comments and reviews. I love hearing what you think!_

_Jack and Phryne had more to say to each other but the evening had its lighter moments too. _

-ooo-

Jack hugged Phryne as soon as they both said 'Dinner in.'

Phryne had been very aware of Jack's warm, solid body behind her, his arms around her, and her hands in his as he told her how his marriage disintegrated. She realized every time they had a serious conversation they were touching, as if to remind themselves how far they'd come together.

Regardless of her lingering qualms about marriage she did love Jack and she was very glad he felt like himself again. She leaned back and rested her head in the hollow between his shoulder and chest and smiled up to him. This time her eyes were smiling too and Jack pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. They just gazed at each other for a few moments, each trying to let the other know how much they were loved and cherished without saying a word.

The loving moment was interrupted unexpectedly when Jack's stomach rumbled. Phryne gave him an amused 'are you _always_ hungry?' look and Jack had to defend himself. "I hardly ate anything at your aunt's house. After I choked on my tea I didn't want to take any chances. I wanted to make it out of there alive."

"Then your stomach is forgiven, Jack. As soon as we have the house to ourselves you may lead the way to the kitchen."

Jack stood up and helped Phryne to her feet. "While we're waiting for that happy moment, I think we should dress for dinner."

...

Phryne was halfway up the stairs and Jack had just reached the first step when Mr. Butler spoke to him from the dining room door.

"Inspector? Constable Collins is here. He wonders if he could have a word with you before he and Dorothy go out for the evening."

Jack had been half-expecting to hear from Hugh – it wasn't urgent but it could be important – so he went into the kitchen and spoke with his constable.

While Jack was downstairs, a silly idea popped into Phryne's head and she undressed as quickly as she could. Then she pulled on one of Jack's new undershirts and a pair of his new shorts and covered everything up with her dressing gown.

About five minutes later Jack came back upstairs and shook his head at Phryne's unspoken query about Hugh. Then he realized she was already wearing her dressing gown and he gave _her_ a look of unspoken query mixed with a little disappointment. Half the fun of dressing for dinner in was the undressing.

Phryne cocked her head and smiled at him. "First things first, Inspector." Her smile turned mischievous as she pulled her dressing gown open. "You never did tell me what you thought of my underwear detecting skills. I thought about buying you blue shorts or striped shorts instead of white but I decided against it. I liked the thought of adding a little mystery to your mornings."

Jack cocked _his_ head, both eyebrows raised, and returned her smile. Phryne had a habit of trying to lighten the mood after serious conversations and as usual she was succeeding. He sat down on the end of the bed and let her take _this_ conversation wherever she wanted. "Mystery to my mornings?"

"If they're all the same you'll have to ask yourself 'Are these the shorts my lover bought for me?' every time you get dressed." A thought struck Phryne and she looked a little worried. "Jack, please tell me your mother doesn't give you underwear for Christmas or your birthday. I'd really rather you didn't confuse my shorts with your mother's shorts."

Jack was trying not to laugh. This was almost as good as her 'hypnotized and weak moment' speech after she told him she was completely in love with him. "You'll be relieved to know I buy my own underwear. And there is no chance I will ever confuse you with my mother."

"That _is_ a relief. And I have to tell you I'm grateful you don't wear union suits. I'd still be buttoning buttons."

"Ugh. I quit wearing those almost the minute there was another option. I hated those things, especially in winter; they were too bulky and too baggy. And too smelly. I had more than enough dirt and sweat and stink during the war and I promised myself if I ever got home I would wash as often as I wanted to and have more than enough socks and underwear to change them twice in one day if I wanted to."

"Hmmm. Something else to be grateful for. You always smell nice."

"And what about you? Ladies' undergarments seem to have changed dramatically in the last few years. Or is it just you?"

By this point Jack could no longer suppress the laughter that had been threatening. His shorts had slipped down from Phryne's waist to the widest part of her hips. As a consequence, the crotch of the shorts now hovered around mid-thigh and the hem hovered around mid-knee.

"I have to tell you Phryne, the shorts are not your most enticing look. If you intend to wear them on a regular basis you might want to ask Miss Williams to take them in so they don't droop around your knees."

Phryne hitched the shorts back up to their proper place around her waist but they immediately started slipping down again. She pulled them up again and held them in up by placing her hands on her hips and carried on. "To answer your question, it depends. The Fleuri sisters make some of my underthings especially to go with my dresses and blouses. Some things I order from Paris because no one does lingerie better than the French."

Jack was still chuckling when he realized regardless of how funny the shorts looked, the undershirt might not be such a bad idea after all. He caressed her breasts through the soft fabric. "You in my undershirt _is_ an enticing look."

And then his stomach rumbled again. Phryne just shook her head. "Start dressing for dinner. I'll go see if the coast is clear."

...

The aroma of cottage pie filled her nostrils when Phryne opened the kitchen door. She stopped and made sure her dressing gown was firmly tied when she saw Mr. Butler still there. "I'm just taking dinner out of the oven, Miss Fisher, then I'll be off. The salad and wine are on the counter."

"It smells wonderful. Thank you, Mr. B. Enjoy your evening."

"Thank you, Miss Fisher. Good night."

As soon as the kitchen door closed behind her Phryne tugged the shorts back up and held on tight as she went up the stairs. Surprising Jack had been fun but it was practically impossible to actually walk with the shorts slipping down all the time. She closed the bedroom door, tossed her dressing gown on the bed and pulled off the undershirt and shorts. She was just pulling her dressing gown back on when Jack came in from the bathroom. He wasn't dressed for dinner yet; in fact he wasn't dressed at all and his dressing gown was in one hand.

Phryne felt her breath hitch and her knees go weak just like they had all those months ago when he walked towards her at Queenscliff beach. She watched his muscles flexing lightly as he closed the bathroom door and turned to her. Jack knew the look in Phryne's eyes and he loved being the reason for the look and what would follow. Any second now she would be nuzzling his chest, her breasts pressed into his torso as she ran her palms around his back and up to his shoulders and down his arms, kissing what she could reach. The primal pull he felt building completely overshadowed any voice his stomach thought it had.

Phryne saw Jack's eyes darken. She loved being the reason for those dark eyes and what would happen next. Within a matter of seconds she would be enveloped in his arms, his warm hands cupping her bottom, then sliding over her skin up to her breasts, a finger under her chin to lift her lips to his. She would reach down and feel him filling her hand perfectly, then wrap one leg around his calf in an unspoken request for him to lift her so should could wrap her legs around him the way she wanted to the very first time she saw him on the beach. Dinner would just have to wait.

...

Mr. Butler was very, very good at preparing meals that were delicious even after they'd cooled off. A lot.

"Phryne, you knew I was divorced when you met me at the door of your aunt's house, didn't you?"

She took a sip of her wine and nodded. "Yes, Jack, I knew."

"How? Did Collins tell you?"

This time she shook her head. "No. Hugh told me it was private and he wouldn't tell me anything. I just called every court and asked which cases were on the docket for the day. I was nosy because you were so secretive. I was shocked when I heard your name and Rosie's name. But you came to Guy and Isabella's party afterward. Why? You must have been emotionally exhausted."

"You asked for my help. To remind you not to be afraid of shadows." As he spoke, Jack reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Phryne's ear. She caught his hand and pressed a kiss on his palm.

Phryne kept holding his hand. "What were you thinking when I tried to get you to put on the Mark Antony costume?"

He took a deep breath and stared off into space as he remembered. "That I'd just experienced one of the hardest days of my life and I didn't have the energy to play games. That I was nowhere near ready to indulge in what I'd been dreaming of. That if you didn't leave the room one of us would do something we would both regret."

Phryne was still for a few minutes, remembering the stunned look on Jack's face when she started untying his tie and how his eyes became so very dark and he never stopped looking at her as he wordlessly willed her to stop. Whenever she leaned in to challenge him or confound him he had leaned right back in and stood his ground. And then things started changing. He started asking her opinion instead of cutting her off. Including her instead of putting up with her. Asking if she was alright just as dispassionately as he would ask any other colleague. Treating her as an equal. She knew she could trust him to keep treating her that way.

"Jack, you do know by now I want you, not a Roman soldier, don't you?"

This time it was Jack's turn for a cheeky smile. "Of course I know. Soldiers are never fed this well."

...

Dot delivered a note to Jack on Tuesday afternoon.

_Jack,_  
_I know it's several weeks away but I have a request. Would you wear your tuxedo for my birthday party? With undershirt or without – your choice._  
_P._  
_P.S. Wonderful? I love the way you treated Arthur. Enchanting? I love the way you look at me._

...

Dot delivered a note to Phryne later that afternoon.

_Phryne,_  
_What a relief. I was afraid you were planning a costume party. As for the undershirt – I'll let it be a surprise._  
_J._  
_P.S. You're wonderful and enchanting too. Especially when you surprise me._

-ooo-

_A/N: I did a fair amount of research on men's and women's undergarments in the late 1920's and early 1930's for the second and third chapters of 'The Charm of One Detail' and it seemed a shame to let it all go to waste. _

_I may have inadvertently borrowed Jack's thoughts on clean underwear from another writer but I can't figure out who or which story. If you know, or if it's yours, please let me know and I will either rewrite that section or give credit where credit is due. Since we're all using the same characters there's bound to be some cross-pollination but I try very hard to keep my writing hands to myself, to the point I hardly read anyone else's stories anymore. _


	13. Birthday Ideas

_Just to review where we are – this story began at the end of September. We're now in the second week of November and it's time to start thinking about a birthday present for the woman who has everything._

_This chapter picks up where Jack is writing the note at the end of the previous chapter._

-ooo-

_Phryne,_  
_What a relief. I was afraid you were planning a costume party. As for the undershirt – I'll let it be a surprise._  
_J._  
_P.S. You're wonderful and enchanting too. Especially when you surprise me._

Jack folded the note to Phryne and put it in an envelope.

Wearing his tuxedo to the theater had turned out to be such a pleasant experience he was more than willing to wear it again for her birthday, especially when the end result promised to be so, well, rewarding. Maybe he should ask her to wear the gold dress for her party.

Hmmm. Maybe he should not start thinking about that dress right now.

He handed the envelope to Dot and thanked her for playing messenger so often. He fully intended to get back to what he was doing but he took a moment to check the calendar and realized Phryne's birthday was only a few weeks away. He immediately started wondering what he could possibly give her for her birthday. It will be one year since they found Janey's remains and one year since Phryne asked him to help her celebrate her birthday and one year since he knew he would fall in love with her. Oh, and one year since he and Rosie divorced. It was almost funny in a sad way that his divorce was practically an afterthought. A lot had happened in the last year.

Janey. He has never seen any pictures of Janey at Phryne's house and wondered why not. He had a vague idea about getting Janey's sketch copied for Phryne but he had no idea how accurate the police artist's sketch really was. He got up from his desk and went out to the front desk, hoping Dot was still there. Hugh was holding the door open for her and she was just stepping out of the station so he sped up a little bit and called "Miss Williams?"

Dot and Hugh both turned and Dot said "Yes Inspector?"

"Do you know if Miss Fisher has any photographs of her sister Janey?"

Dot looked a little surprised at the question, but looked even more surprised when she realized she hadn't ever seen a picture of Janey. "I don't know Inspector. I haven't seen any. It's surprising isn't it? Perhaps Miss Fisher's family couldn't afford to have photographs taken."

Jack hadn't thought of that. It was always startling to think of Phryne living a poverty-stricken childhood, especially given her current financial state. He decided to enlist Dot's help. "Would you mind looking around for one? I have an idea for Miss Fisher's birthday present and having a photograph of Janey would help. And please, don't let Miss Fisher find out. You know how she is and I _would_ like to be able to surprise her." Jack smiled to himself as he spoke. Amazingly enough he has managed to surprise Phryne several times in the past few months. It's always a good feeling when he does.

Dot readily agreed to help Jack and told him she would let him know what she discovered one way or the other within a day or two.

...

A couple of days later Dot knocked on Jack's office door. She had another note from Phryne and news of her own. "Inspector, I haven't been able to find any photographs of Janey. I looked in all the rooms and all the usual places Miss Fisher keeps important papers, but I didn't feel right snooping anywhere really personal. I'm sorry."

He was disappointed but he smiled at Dot and thanked her for trying. "I'll just have to think of something else" he told her.

"Inspector, would mind you tell me what you were thinking of? Maybe I can help in another way."

He told her about his idea for having someone copy the police sketch of Janey. But first he wanted to make sure the sketch really did look just like her.

Dot looked impressed. "That's a lovely idea, Inspector, and very thoughtful."

He started to open the envelope from Phryne when Dot piped up again.

"Inspector, why don't you ask Mrs. Stanley? Miss Fisher and Janey spent a lot of time at her house playing with Guy and Arthur. It's possible Mrs. Stanley has some photographs of all of the children."

Jack's face brightened. "Good idea, Miss Williams." Then his face fell a bit. "That means I'll have to call on Mrs. Stanley. Without Miss Fisher." Even though his last encounter with Mrs. Stanley had gone quite well, all things considered, the thought of facing her on his own was a little daunting.

Dot just raised her eyebrows at him. She could guess what he was thinking. "Good luck with Mrs. Stanley, Inspector. Oh. I almost forgot. Miss Fisher asked me to wait for a response. She has a question about going to the museum this weekend. It's something Jane needs to do."

He finished opening the envelope and read Phryne's note. Jane did need to go to the art museum this weekend and Phryne was asking if he wanted to accompany them. With Dot, who did not have plans at the church on Saturday. Jack couldn't remember the last time he'd been to the art museum. He wrote a quick note to Phryne and thanked Dot again.

_P,_  
_As much as I would love to wander the galleries with you, I'm on duty most of the day Saturday. Perhaps another time? I'll see you Friday evening._  
_J._  
_P.S. It would be wonderful if you wore your gold dress for your party._

Jack telephoned Mrs. Stanley right after Dot left. He kept the conversation brief, not wanting to tie up the station's line on a personal matter. She thought she had a couple of photos with Phryne and Janey and invited him to stop by on Saturday afternoon.

Perfect. He could do that before heading to Phryne's house. Jack felt relieved that he had at least the beginnings of a plan in place. Now, where was the police artist's telephone number?

...

When Phryne, Jane, and Dot entered the large International Paintings gallery on Saturday, there was a group of students gathered in front of one of the paintings. Their professor finished speaking and the students scrambled for the benches and floor space and opened their sketch pads.

As they made their way around the gallery, Dot noticed one of the students was not looking at the painting she was supposed to be working on but at a young man several paintings down. She was sketching him with firm, sure strokes of her pencil and Dot was amazed as she saw the young man appear on the page in a matter of minutes. Phryne and Jane noticed Dot's curiosity and walked over to see what was so interesting. Phryne made some appreciative comments to the student and they chatted for a few minutes until the professor fixed a stare on all four of them and the student excused herself.

It occurred to Dot if the police sketch artist wasn't available the Inspector would need someone else to help with his surprise for her mistress. She waited until Phryne and Jane were engrossed in another painting, then wrote her name on one of Miss Fisher's cards and handed it to the young woman, whispering "Call me, please, I may have a job for you." Dot then handed the student her notebook and whispered again "Write down your name and a number where I can reach you. Just in case you lose the card." Dot felt quite pleased with herself for her ingenuity.

...

Jack arrived at Mrs. Stanley's home late Saturday afternoon. The butler showed him into the parlor and Mrs. Stanley bustled in a few minutes later. She was carrying several photograph albums.

"Now Inspector, I'm not sure which album has the photographs of Phryne and Janey so you'll have to bear with me for a few minutes while I look for them." She offered refreshments while he waited, which Jack politely declined.

"Here we are" she said finally as she handed an album to Jack. "Phryne, Janey, Guy, and Arthur. These were taken a few months before Janey disappeared."

This was the first time Jack has ever seen what Phryne looked like as a girl. She had the same determined set to her chin and unflinching look in her eyes he has seen a hundred times. Her dark hair was chopped off just above her shoulders while Janey's longer blonde hair was in neat braids with ribbons. The girls were holding hands and Janey was looking toward Phryne who was half-turned to Janey but still looking at the camera. The second photograph was the same group, only this time both girls were looking straight at the camera and the boys looked like they were gearing up for a tussle.

"This is perfect Mrs. Stanley. Would you mind letting me borrow these photographs for a while?" He explained to her what he had in mind for Phryne's birthday present.

She was astonished he wanted to do such a thing. "Inspector, is it wise to give Phryne a gift associated with such sad memories?"

"The day will always have sad memories. But Phryne loved Janey and I'd like to give her something to remind her she has happy memories of her sister too."

She considered Jack's answer for a moment. This man appeared to have some very interesting qualities. "Phryne was always such a headstrong girl but she did love Janey. They were inseparable. The girls spent a lot of time here as children. I did what I could to expose them to a side of life they didn't get at home. My sister loved her daughters but her husband was not a good provider and life was quite difficult for them." Her voice trailed off.

Jack hoped there was more Mrs. Stanley might say so he proceeded cautiously. "Phryne has told me about her father. It's probably a good thing there's so much distance between them now." Mrs. Stanley just nodded her head very slightly and "hmmm'ed."

He tried a slightly different tack. "I'm sure your generosity made a big difference in Phryne's and Janey's lives. I know Phryne loves her cousins too. Especially Arthur."

Mrs. Stanley nodded. "Yes, Phryne has always been very patient and loving with Arthur. She was constantly arguing with Guy that they should include Arthur in their games. Of course Guy disagreed but Phryne usually managed to get her way."

Jack had to smile at that. Phryne usually managed to get her way no matter who she was dealing with. "Yes, she does have a way about her, doesn't she?" He decided to risk a very personal question. "Has Arthur always lived at home, Mrs. Stanley?"

"Yes he has, despite Guy's objections. I've been working with my solicitors to alter my will to ensure Arthur remains here after I'm gone. I have to make it iron-clad so Guy can't subvert my wishes." Mrs. Stanley fixed Jack with a look he couldn't interpret and continued. "Phryne doesn't know this yet, but I'm going to ask her to make sure my plans are carried out. She's the only one I trust to do so."

She sat back and waited for the implications of her statement to sink in. She had seen the Inspector's tolerant smile last year while he watched Phryne greeting Arthur. And he had treated Arthur very nicely the last time they met. It was time to see if those were just well-honed performances.

Ah. Jack understood the look now. She wanted to see how he would react to the idea of Phryne's life, and potentially his, being entwined with Arthur's. As far as he was concerned, Mrs. Stanley keeping Arthur at home instead of institutionalizing him said more about her true character than any of her charitable works or efforts to uphold Phryne's social standing or raise Jane's.

He looked her straight in the eye. "Mrs. Stanley, that is an excellent idea. I can't think of a better person to ask. I'm sure Phryne would do everything in her power to make sure Arthur is cared for in the manner you desire."

She acknowledged his statement and his implicit declaration with a nod. Now, she thought to herself, let's see how he deals with minor subterfuge and keeping things to himself. "I intend to discuss it with Phryne very soon, Inspector, but I would prefer you not mention this to her. That won't be a problem, will it? She doesn't know you're here to borrow photographs, does she?"

"No, she would be very surprised to know I'm here. We can tell her about the photographs after her birthday. Your other business is not mine to discuss." He rose and Mrs. Stanley handed him the photographs and walked with him to the front door. They said their good-byes and Jack thanked her again for her help.

Jack walked to his car, marveling at the chain of events that led him to being privy to Stanley family matters and a confidant of the family matriarch.

Mrs. Stanley closed her front door, marveling at the chain of events that led her to loan family photographs and confide Stanley family matters to a policeman, albeit a very civilized policeman.

...

When Jack arrived at the Fisher house early Saturday evening, Dot managed to speak with him for a few moments before Phryne came downstairs. She was nearly bursting to tell him her news.

"Inspector, you will never believe the good luck we had today. I met a very talented art student at the museum who might be able to help you with your drawing of Janey." She dropped her voice as they heard Phryne's footsteps on the landing. "I will contact her and explain what you want and if she thinks she can do it I'll tell her to contact you." Dot looked very pleased with herself.

"Good job, Miss Williams!" he whispered back. "Mrs. Stanley loaned me two photographs of Phryne and Janey." They were grinning at each other when Phryne caught up with them.

"Miss Fisher! Miss Williams was just telling me about the museum outing." Jack slipped his arm around Phryne's waist and led her to the parlor. "Tell me what I missed."

-ooo-

_A/N: As always, thank you for your reviews. I'm so glad you're enjoying this story! I'm having a lot of fun writing it. _


	14. Art Lessons

_Thank you to everyone who has taken the time and energy to review my stories. It means so much to know someone out there is enjoying what I spend my free time doing :-). _

_In this chapter, I'd like to give credit to everyone who ever painted a Madonna or a Saint Sebastian, Hieronymus Bosch (and Kerry Greenwood as his 'Garden of Earthly Delights' is one of her inspirations), Édouard Manet, Jean-August-Dominique Ingres, the sculptors whose Venus de Milo and Winged Victory of Samothrace thrill Louvre visitors, Gian Lorenzo Bernini, and Auguste Rodin._

_This chapter picks up at the end of the previous chapter - Jack has his arm around Phryne and they're walking to the parlor._

-ooo-

Phryne snuggled into Jack's side as they walked into the parlor and over to the drinks cart.

She had a vague feeling she'd interrupted something between him and Dot but once she and Jack were out of sight of the door and were greeting each other properly, and at length, she completely forgot about it. In fact, she was tempted to forgo the drinks but she had an urgent need for Jack to do something else first.

She poured both of them a drink and then sank down into one of the armchairs, and patted the seat of the other armchair so Jack would sit down in it. She kicked off her shoes and put her feet in Jack's lap.

"The museum trip was a lot of fun. But if I'd known Jane was going to want to see _everything _in one go I'd have worn much more comfortable shoes for walking. We stopped for lunch in the museum café but Jane was a hard task mistress. We were there _all_ day."

Jack looked at the stocking-clad feet in his lap and laughed at the thought of Phryne being bossed around by Jane. "And now you want me to do something about it? Shouldn't Jane be in here rubbing your feet?"

Phryne fluttered her eyelashes at her lover. "Technically you're right. But I dropped Jane at school on our way home. I think she wanted to compare notes with the weekend boarders. There's nothing like a day looking at paintings and statues of half-naked figures to pique the imagination of a 16 year-old girl. Or perhaps it was all the young men at the museum. Or both. So it's you and me and Mr. Butler tonight. And I wouldn't dream of asking Mr. Butler to rub my feet. Unless you want to switch with him and make dinner?"

Jack was already massaging the foot nestled in his hands. He stopped for a second and cocked an eyebrow at her. "Do you want eggs and bacon and toast for dinner? No? So why exactly did Jane need to go to the museum? You never did say."

"She didn't _need_ to go, she _wanted_ to go. She'd gone on a school outing and the girls were only there for a couple of hours. Apparently it whetted her appetite. Whether for art or something else I can't say."

"If it's the something else Phryne, don't tell me. I'm not sure I want to know."

She started laughing. "Jack, you're sounding just a tiny bit overprotective."

He just shook his head. "Phryne you are more than capable of dealing with anyone you feel is getting too close to Jane, for whatever reason." He took a sip of his drink and looked around the room for a few moments. "As much art as you have hanging on the walls here you could have given her a tour of the house and saved your feet."

"Hmmm. I don't have any Madonnas or Saint Sebastians bristling with arrows or monumental European battle scenes or Hieronymus Bosch nightmares. I'm more of an Olympia girl myself. Or a Grande Odalisque."

"Olympia? Grande Odalisque?" Paintings were not Jack's forte. He was more of a books boy himself. Unless Phryne was the subject. He liked that painting very, very much.

"Olympia, by Édouard Manet. He painted a young woman wearing nothing but a tiny black ribbon around her neck, a bracelet, and high-heeled slippers." Phryne cocked an eyebrow at Jack and gave him a suggestive look. She wondered how he would like her in nothing but a tiny black ribbon around her neck. Probably very much. She filed that thought away for future reference.

"All the little details point to her being a prostitute, but that's completely irrelevant. The important thing is she's staring straight at the people who are looking at her. That just wasn't done and it's one of the reasons the painting was very poorly received. But she's gorgeous and she knows it. The Grande Odalisque is gorgeous too. She's a much more classical nude. Her body is turned away from the viewers and she's looking over her shoulder into the distance. She's wearing only a bracelet and she's holding a feathered fan."

While Phryne was talking Jack was surreptitiously comparing the glossy-haired woman whose ankles he was now caressing with the messy-haired girl he'd seen in the photographs. But when the words 'nothing but a tiny black ribbon' and 'feathered fan' bubbled into his consciousness he lost track of the girl completely.

By this point Phryne's feet were nearly recovered from their ordeal, thanks to Jack's thorough ministrations, and she wiggled her toes appreciatively. "Thank you Jack. You do have wonderfully talented hands."

Jack's answer was to scoot his chair closer so he could stroke her calves too. The result was a series of appreciative "mmmm"s from the glossy-haired woman.

"I know what you're missing, Phryne. Statuary. You need a Greek goddess or Julius Caesar in a triumphant pose."

"Oooh. Good thought Jack. How about Apollo and Daphne for those times you're feeling overprotective of Jane. Or me, if you ever do. When Apollo catches Daphne she starts turning into an oak tree before he can have his way with her."

"I'm not familiar with that myth. Although I certainly wouldn't want you to turn into an oak tree."

"The statue is by Bernini and it's in Rome. And there's no chance I'd turn into an oak tree. I'd be a gingko and I'd flutter my fan-shaped leaves in the breeze."

Jack wasn't much of a arborist but he did know there were gingko trees around the city. He gave her an appraising look. "I'll look for the resemblance the next time I see a gingko tree."

They were both enjoying this conversation very much and Phryne smiled fondly at him. "Jack, when you were in Paris waiting to be demobilized did you go to any of the museums? Or did you spend all your time there in an alcohol-induced haze at the Moulin Rouge and the Folies Bergère?"

Jack gave Phryne a 'what do _you_ think' look. "One evening at the Moulin Rouge does not an alcohol-induced haze make. I did go to the Louvre, mainly because I figured I'd probably never get the chance again. I hardly had time for the paintings but I did get to see a lot of statues."

Phryne gave Jack a 'oh, you good boy' look. Why was she not surprised? "So instead of lusting after the cancan dancers you lusted after the Venus de Milo?"

"As glad as I was to actually see the Venus de Milo she wasn't the object of my desire. The Winged Victory of Samothrace was the girl for me. I hated everything about _why_ I was in France, but she made me be glad to be there."

She knew exactly which statue he was talking about but she kept quiet. It was fascinating to see this side of him.

"You turn a corner and all you can see is a long, wide staircase leading up to a huge, headless, winged figure presiding over everything and everyone. She's gorgeous and she knows it."

"She's definitely too big for the garden. What about a Rodin? We could have 'The Kiss' or 'The Thinker.' No, they're too big for the garden too. We saw a small version of 'The Thinker' today. It was about the same size as 'The Kiss' that killed Vera at the chalet. Although I think you probably would feel overprotective of Jane if we had a Kiss in the garden. And Aunt Prudence would certainly object."

The words 'Aunt Prudence' startled Jack out of his attention to Phryne's legs. "You might be surprised Phryne. I'm starting to wonder if there are some hidden depths to your aunt we haven't seen yet."

Phryne looked puzzled by that remark. What on earth was Jack talking about? He must mean the discussion they had with her over tea, mustn't he? Whatever he meant, she had much more pleasant things in mind. "Let's not talk about Aunt Prudence, Jack. In fact, let's take this discussion upstairs and you can massage my back. Standing most of the day is hard work."

Jack helped her up from the armchair and pulled her close enough to murmur in her ear. "Do you have a black ribbon?"

Phryne stood on tiptoe to murmur in _his_ ear. "Sorry Jack, I don't. But I have my feathered fans. Will those do?" she answered as he pressed light kisses down her neck.

He gave her a look of mock disappointment. "They'll have to."

"I could keep my bracelet on if you like."

...

Jack and Dot had a chance to speak privately before he left Phryne's house early Sunday afternoon.

"I thought you'd like to see the photographs Mrs. Stanley loaned me" Jack said, pulling an envelope out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

Dot studied the photographs. The transformation of her mistress from a young girl with chopped off hair to the woman she knew was amazing. And yet... "Her eyes are exactly the same, aren't they Inspector? I've seen that look dozens of times."

Jack smiled as he put the envelope back in his pocket. "They are. I can't tell you how many times she's looked at me with that exact expression. I'll wait to hear from you or your artist."

"Inspector, it really is a wonderful idea you have. I'm sure Miss Fisher will love your present."

He was pulling on his overcoat when Phryne came into the entry hall to see him out. They went through their good-bye ritual – a long kiss and a long hug – before she leaned against the door jamb and blew a kiss to him when he turned to smile at her from the front gate.

She went into the parlor and pulled a large volume from the bookcase. Talking about the Louvre with Jack made her miss Paris a little bit, despite all the bad memories at the end of her time there. She sat down on the loveseat and started flipping through the pages, stopping when she found the picture of the Venus de Milo. The Winged Victory's picture was on the opposite page. There's certainly nothing demure about her, Phryne thought. Jack's right, she's gorgeous and she knows it. She settled in to contemplate that thought when an envelope leaning against the orchid on the piano caught her eye.

_P._

_As much as I love the Winged Victory, I can't imagine her with fans and a bracelet. You're gorgeous with or without them._

_J._

...

On Wednesday Hugh was getting a cup of tea when he heard the bell in the reception room. He put his cup down and hurried to the desk. A young woman with a sketch pad and a large bag slung over her shoulder was looking around the room curiously.

Hugh spoke with her for a moment and knocked on Jack's door.

"Inspector, Iris Parsons, the young lady Dot met at the museum is here to see you."

"Thank you Collins. Ask her to come in. And would you pull Janey Fisher's file for me?

When Hugh brought the file Jack flipped through and found the police sketch of Janey and placed it beside the two photographs he borrowed from Mrs. Stanley. He and Iris studied the pictures on the desk.

The police sketch was close but Janey's chin wasn't quite right.

Jack asked Iris if she could draw a more accurate portrait of Janey. While Iris was doing a quick sketch, she asked about the girl. Jack told her who the girl was and a little bit about Janey's disappearance and subsequent murder.

Iris took another look at the photograph of Phryne and Janey looking straight at the camera. "The taller girl is the same woman Miss Williams was with at the museum, isn't she? Tell me about Miss Fisher."

Jack quickly told her the basics of Phryne's quest to find her sister, her nearly fatal encounter with Murdoch Foyle and his subsequent arrest, and finally finding Janey's remains. Then he told her about the girls growing up in poverty in Collingwood and playing in an old bathtub in the yard and how much Phryne loved Janey.

As Jack was telling the bathtub story, Iris was sketching furiously. When she showed her pad to Jack he was amazed at her ability to translate his words into the scene on her sketchpad. She asked about the girls' eye colors, and Jack remembered the blue ribbons Janey wore the day she disappeared.

When Iris asked if he had a current photo of Phryne, Jack looked very embarrassed. "I do, but they're a little, umm, informal." He retrieved the file with the photos Hugh had taken months ago from his bottom desk drawer and handed it to her. Then he pulled the remaining photograph from his breast pocket.

Iris put all of the photos on the desk and studied them for a while. She made a few delicate strokes on the sketch of the girls and showed it to Jack. Phryne's expression was soft and smiling and her eyes and Janey's eyes reflected the excitement and fun of their game. Jack could see a hint of Phryne's affection for her sister. He has seen that same affectionate look directed at Jane and Dot and Hugh and Arthur. And him. All the people Phryne loves.

She quickly did rough sketches of several perspectives of the scene and asked Jack to pick the one he liked best. "Inspector, I think this would be really lovely as a watercolor." She explained what she had in mind and Jack agreed. She had no idea how much to charge Jack for her work so he suggested she ask her professor. Then they made arrangements to meet again when the picture was complete and Jack escorted her to the door. On their way, she stopped and took a quick look at the sketches on the notice board. "I hope I'm never a starving artist, but if you ever need another sketch artist let me know, Inspector."

Jack smiled and returned to his office. This was a good plan.

-ooo-

_A/N: __The Aphrodite (artist unknown) in this chapter was part of the collection of the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne in 1929. __Pythokritos of Lindos' Winged Victory of Samothrace_ _and Venus de Milo (thought to be the work of Alexandros of Antioch) are part of the collection of_ _the Louvre Museum in Paris, France. _

_There are many casts of Auguste __Rodin's The Kiss and The Thinker sculptures; at least one of each are at the Rodin Museum in Paris, France. Édouard Manet's Olympia painting is at the Musee d'Orsay in Paris, France. Jean-August-Dominique Ingres' Grande Odalisque painting is at the Louvre Museum in Paris, France. Gian Lorenzo Bernini's sculpture of Apollo and Daphne is at the Galleria Borghese in Rome, Italy_.


	15. Paper-covered Tabletops

_Thanks everyone for your reviews! _

-ooo-

_What happened on different days in between the museum trip and Phryne's birthday_

Mr. Butler ushered Mrs. Stanley in to the entry hall. She had telephoned earlier, telling Phryne she wanted to discuss something with her, and had been invited to lunch.

But Phryne was so absorbed in what she was doing that she'd forgotten all about the lunch invitation. She was in the dining room with the pages of the document detailing her assistance with Jack's police investigations spread on the table. She and Jack thought they were finished with it and she was giving it a final once-over. Mr. Butler knew what she was doing was important and he had not wanted to disturb her, figuring that time would come soon enough.

Not surprisingly, Phryne was quite startled when her aunt's voice inserted itself into her consciousness and Mrs. Stanley being Mrs. Stanley, pulled out a dining room chair and sat herself down, handbag in her lap, pulling off her gloves.

"What _are_ you doing Phryne?" she asked as she craned her neck to try to read the pages closest to her. From what she could see, each page had the same general layout – a heading of some sort at the top left with dates on the top right – then a paragraph or two of text followed by neat columns and rows of dates and names and more text. All of the pages had at least one or two sheets below them and there were at least twenty separate stacks on the table. Phryne had several more pages in her hand when she looked up, blinking, at her aunt.

"Aunt P! I'm so sorry, I was completely engrossed in what I was doing. These are all of the cases I helped Jack with. We thought it would be a good idea to document exactly how I've helped in the event Sanderson's or Fletcher's lawyers try to pull something nasty."

"Phryne, how many cases _have_ you helped with? Is each one of these pages a case? There are more than twenty that I can see."

Phryne added the pages she had in her hand to the neat stacks on the table top. "Twenty-six major cases plus several minor ones. Lydia and John Andrews are the first. Sanderson and Fletcher are the last. I haven't helped Jack with _any_ since then, other than discussing a few of them with him. In fact I've hardly been to the police station in weeks and weeks and weeks. I used to be there several days each week. Sometimes more than once in a day." As she spoke, Phryne's expression faded from rather proud to almost sad. She sorely missed being able to pop into Jack's office whenever she wanted to, and not just for playful banter or picnic lunches. She missed working with him and arguing with him and puzzling through evidence with him. She even missed going to the morgue with him.

Mrs. Stanley was practically quivering with curiosity. "May I read the Andrews pages?"

"Certainly, Aunt Prudence. You already know most of what's there."

Mrs. Stanley skimmed the top page. The paragraph at the top summarized the facts of the case and the table below described the people involved and evidence collected. In addition to John and Lydia Andrews was the name Dorothy Williams. There was a "Resolution" heading with 'released from custody' next to Dot's name, 'convicted' next to Lydia Andrews' names, and 'deceased' next to John Andrews' name.

At the bottom of the sheet there was a smaller 'Related Investigations' heading listing 'Madame Breda' and 'George Fletcher, alias Butcher George.' Mrs. Stanley's eyebrows shot up when she read the words Butcher George. Everyone knew what he did but his name was not mentioned in polite circles.

The secondary pages listed everyone interviewed, with dates, evidence collected, with dates, and all sorts of miscellaneous information, including the explosion at Madame Breda's bathhouse. Mrs. Stanley humph'ed at that bit. Then she saw her own name and realized it would appear on several of the pages on the table. The thought was a little worrisome.

But Mrs. Stanley was also astonished. She had no idea Phryne had been so involved in so many police investigations. Of course she knew Phryne had "helped" with the cases involving herself and her family but she honestly thought her niece's "lady detective" business was simply a ruse to employ when she wanted to avoid social obligations. She wondered if it might be time to start looking at Phryne in yet another new light. She was pondering that thought when Mr. Butler came in to the dining room and asked if he could set the table for lunch.

Phryne carefully gathered up the pages in order and the ladies decamped to the parlor.

"Phryne, how on earth were you involved with Butcher George?" Mrs. Stanley looked very concerned.

"Jack was able to arrest him because Dot pretended she was going to avail herself of his services" Phryne responded matter-of-factly.

Mrs. Stanley closed her eyes for a moment and decided she did not want to know after all. Time to change the subject.

"Phryne, I wanted to talk with you about your birthday. I want to host your party this year. We could keep it small – what do you think of 30 guests. It would be a good opportunity to introduce Inspector Robinson to some of the more broad-minded people we know. Perhaps those two cabbies of yours could help park cars or serve drinks – you know – like they did at Guy and Isabella's engagement party."

Phryne thought for a moment. She knew what her aunt was trying to do and it was actually a very thoughtful gesture, if a little heavy handed. But she also knew exactly what she wanted for her birthday party – small and intimate and in her own home, where everyone would feel welcome and comfortable, and Dot and Bert and Cec and Mr. Butler could be guests, not just employees.

But instead of immediately dismissing her aunt's offer, Phryne offered a compromise. "Aunt P, that is _so_ kind of you. But I want to have the party here, just like last year, and I've already started planning it. However …"

Mrs. Stanley tried to interrupt. "Phryne, at some point you need to start introducing ..."

Phryne carried on speaking "However, someday I would like Jack to meet some of our nicer acquaintances and I think it would be a wonderful idea if you hosted a small party _after_ the Sanderson case is concluded and we know what Rosie is going to do next."

Mr. Butler came in to announce lunch and Mrs. Stanley decided she could agree with Phryne's logic.

...

Iris Parsons was standing beside Jack in the interrogation room and they too were looking over sheets of paper on a table. Iris had contacted Jack a couple of days earlier with an idea for a more detailed sketch of Janey and he thought her idea was a good one. Jack added the photographs of Janey and Phryne and the police sketch of Janey to the mix already on the table and pondered.

"This one" he said as he picked up one of the sheets. Somehow Iris had managed to combine the Janey in the two photographs into one sketch – the full face from the photo where she was looking straight at the camera and the softer expression from the photo where her head was turned toward Phryne. "How did you do this?" he asked incredulously. "You didn't take the photographs with you so you could refer to them, and you certainly didn't have a photograph where she looked like this."

Iris shrugged her shoulders and shook her head slightly. "Honestly Inspector, I'm not sure. I can remember things I see. Not everything, of course, but things I've concentrated on or things that have made an impression on me. I also had the copy of the police sketch, so I referred to it."

"So you don't have an eidetic memory?" Jack was thinking of Clara. Abilities like that could be very helpful in police work.

"No. I just make it a point to remember as much as possible about certain things or people that strike me as interesting or unusual. In this case, you wanting to do something so nice for Miss Fisher made me want to remember everything about the photographs."

...

Renée Fleuri was smiling as she re-read the note she'd received from Miss Fisher.

_Dear Renée,_

_Thank you so much for doing such a wonderful, quick job on my gold dress. It was perfect for the theater and I'm so pleased with it I'm going to wear it for my birthday party too._

_Please extend my thanks to Simone also._

_Best regards,_  
_Phryne Fisher_

Renée thought she knew exactly who Miss Fisher had gone to the theater with. She had overheard another client speaking with Simone about seeing Phryne Fisher at the theater with a young woman she thought was her ward. They were accompanied by a man the woman did not recognize, but she remembered he looked very good in a tuxedo. Renée was willing to bet Miss Fisher's escort was Inspector Robinson. The looks those two gave each other were entirely too intimate for them to be mere acquaintances. Good for both of them. Miss Fisher deserves to be happy, Renée thought.

She wondered what sort of party Miss Fisher would attend for her birthday. If it was a formal party, her white fur wrap would be perfect again. But if it was a family party, the dress might be considered a tiny bit risqué by the more sedate generation. Hmmm. She reached for Miss Fisher's file and spread the sketches of the garments they'd created for her on her work table.

Surely Miss Fisher had something in her vast wardrobe that could provide a bit of a cover, at least until the party started to wind down.

...

'One last look,' Phryne told herself as she surveyed the pages spread out on the dining room table after dinner. Two days ago she thought she was finished but she knew she needed to put everything aside and look at it with fresh eyes in a day or two. 'Everything has to be perfectly documented and perfectly clear. The more thorough we are, the less chance someone can pick holes in this.' The possibility of Jack's future as a Detective Inspector of the Victoria Police Force being compromised because of a perceived misstep or overstep on her part or his was extremely worrisome.

Regardless of how much she had actually helped with many of Jack's investigations, she was fully aware of the fact that any number of stuffed shirts could try to use her involvement to discredit his investigations – and – would feel no compunction at destroying his career if doing so would help their cases. The thought made her blood boil and she resolved she would do everything in her power to protect him. Not just because he was a good man and she loved him. Because he was a damned good police officer. And she despised the stuffed shirts who would be defending Sanderson and Fletcher almost as much as she despised Sanderson and Fletcher.

Hours later Phryne didn't know what else she could do. Every top sheet looked exactly like every other top sheet. There were no misspelled names or corrected dates or strikethroughs or even the tiniest smudge of ink. She placed all the pages in a large envelope, satisfied she was as finished as she could ever be. It was time to hand it all over to Jack and hope he never had to use it.

She crossed her arms on the table and laid her head on her hands to rest, just for a minute, before she went upstairs to get ready for bed. Her eyes fluttered shut and the last thought that crossed her mind was at some point soon she would insist Dot take a typing course. At the very least Dot needed to be able to type as fast and as accurately as Hugh could. She smiled at that thought and succumbed to weariness.

...

Newspapers and an old tablecloth covered the dining room table and Mr. Butler and Dot were surveying the silver cutlery and serving pieces arrayed before them. They looked at each other, pulled out their chairs, and donned their gloves. Mr. Butler offered the bottle of silver polish to Dot before placing it in the middle of the table. They each picked up a rag and choose their first piece.

Dot considered the job ahead and sighed. "This is a lot of silver, Mr. Butler."

Mr. Butler just smiled. "And think how proud you'll be when it's all shining at Miss Fisher's party, Dorothy."

-ooo-

_A/N: Next up – Phryne's birthday. The chapter I've had half-written from the very beginning._


	16. Birthday Party

_I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it._

-ooo-

_December 21st. Phryne's birthday and the Summer Solstice – the day with the most light all year._

Phryne woke to Jack stretching beside her and she curled her leg around his and slid her foot down his calf and stretched with him, feeling his "mmmm"s vibrating from his chest to hers as he pulled her close.

Then he shifted to lie on his side and she shifted to face him and reached up to run her fingers through his mussed hair and he tucked her hair behind her ear. "Happy birthday, Miss Fisher" he said and smiled that tiny smile she loves so much.

"Thank you, Inspector" she smiled and snuggled closer and nuzzled Jack's chest. "This might be the best birthday I've ever had."

"Only _might be_?" Jack gathered Phryne into his arms so she was as close to him as she could be. "Let's see if we can make it _the_ best birthday ever."

...

The dining room table was laden with food and china and gleaming silver and Bert and Cec were opening bottles of wine and placing them on the sideboard. The cart in the parlor sparkled with crystal glasses and decanters and Mr. Butler was serving drinks. Soft music filled the air and Jane was tasked with changing the records. Dot was in charge of retrieving the wrapped presents waiting in the study at Jack's signal.

Jack was in the parlor, but close to the door so he could keep an eye on the stairs. Half an hour ago Dot had shooed him out of the bedroom with instructions to wait downstairs and entertain guests as they arrived. He had introduced his parents and sisters and brothers-in-law to Mrs. Stanley and Arthur and Mac and Hugh and was now being teased about his attire. "The tuxedo is a birthday request from Phryne" was all he would say. His sisters looked impressed and their husbands tried to ignore the pointed looks they were receiving from their wives.

Now Dot was coming downstairs. She smiled at Jack when she reached him. "She looks even more beautiful than usual, Inspector" she whispered. "She'll be down very soon."

Just a few minutes later the bedroom door opened and Phryne stood on the threshold. She took a deep breath and remained there for a few seconds, remembering this day a year ago. Her sister's disappearance had left a huge void in her life and when all the questions were answered and Janey's remains were found the relief was overwhelming. But the emptiness afterward was just as overwhelming and she felt like she was standing on the edge of an abyss where only sheer force of will and Jack's steady gaze kept her from tumbling into it.

Now Janey's death was no longer a constantly aching wound, she was in love with a man she never dreamed she would find, and wonder of all wonders, her Aunt Prudence no longer scowled at her every time she saw her. A year ago she would never have guessed any of these could be possible.

She smiled to herself and started walking down the stairs to the man who was crossing the entry hall to wait for her.

When Phryne reached the bottom step Jack reached for her hand and swept his gaze from her eyes to her feet and back up again. They stood very close at the foot of the stairs, gazing at each other in delight, until Phryne smiled mischievously and slipped a finger between the buttons of Jack's shirt. "You're wearing exactly what I wanted" she whispered, looking up at him from under her eyelashes.

"And you're wearing a little more than I expected" Jack whispered as he ran his hands up her arms and slipped his fingers under the short sleeves of gold lace that were hiding her shoulders.

"It was Renée's idea. She suggested since this is a family party I could take it off after the – what was the phrase she used – the sedate generation went home and the party winds down. I think she's guessed who will be removing it."

...

They walked hand in hand to the parlor and Jack watched Phryne flutter around the room, kissing cheeks, shaking hands, smiling and greeting her guests. The determined, scrappy girl with chopped off hair and an unflinching gaze had grown into a determined, graceful woman. Only the tiniest hint of the heartbroken girl was still there under the gold silk and lace. He'd seen far more than a hint of her last year, remembering the look in Phryne's eyes when they were sitting in her kitchen, her signed statement on the table between them.

Jack's heart nearly broke for Phryne when she said "My birthday party" and she struggled not to cry, chin thrust out to thwart her tears, devastated by the random chance of a birth date mistake leading to a madman murdering her beloved sister. He could hardly bear it when she reached for his hand and said "Help me to celebrate." There was so much pain and raw emotion in her eyes, and need for him – who had been with her throughout the harrowing investigation and ensuing nightmare – to stay with her just a little while longer. He had to close his eyes for a moment while she squeezed his fingers and silently implored him to stay.

He had opened his eyes and nodded once, knowing at that moment he would always be hers, even if she never knew. There was no way on earth he could refuse her.

So he folded the pages of Phryne's statement and pocketed them, then walked through to the parlor door where the party was in full swing. He leaned against the door jamb, not wanting to intrude – he had no real reason to be there other than her request – and scanned the room for her as Mr. Butler offered him a glass of champagne.

Phryne was a silver shimmer deep in the parlor, not moving, not smiling. Her eyes were huge and dark, and she looked like a child who has just realized it is lost and vulnerable and utterly alone. Then she caught sight of Jack in the bright entry hall and they each took a sip of their champagne, eyes locked, barely a muscle moving except the corners of their mouths and eyebrows, and those movements were only scant millimeters.

Jack held her gaze, willing her to come back to them, his tiny smile reassuring her she could do it, his eyes reminding her how much all of them loved her. He felt a flood of relief as Phryne's eyes lit up with their familiar sparkle and she became herself again, smiling as she held his gaze for one more second.

...

Phryne felt a warm hand on the small of her back and Jack extricated her from a spirited conversation with his sisters and led her to an armchair. There wasn't anything she wanted for her birthday except to share the day with the people who were dear to her, so her surprised look was completely understandable when Dot handed Jack two flat parcels and he placed them on a small table in front of her.

"Open the smaller one first" Jack instructed her, and she untied the ribbon and carefully unwrapped his first gift.

Phryne gasped and stared unbelieving at the framed sketch. Her little sister gazed back at her, a hint of a smile at the corners of her lips and eyes. She has seen that expression hundreds of times but not once in the last fifteen years. Until now. She touched the glass lovingly, as though she could feel Janey's cheek under her fingertips. Phryne's eyes were huge and bright when she turned to Jack. "Jack? How? Where did…?"

Jack gently took the sketch from her and handed it to Dot. "Now open your other present. Then I'll tell you everything you want to know."

When the wrapping paper was pulled back Phryne gasped again and stared unbelieving at the larger framed picture. A quick look to Jack and her eyes were riveted on the picture as she picked it up.

She was holding a watercolor of two young girls sitting in an old, rust-stained bathtub, a broom for a mast and a threadbare shirt tied to the broom handle for a sail. The dark-haired girl was holding the broom, smiling at the younger, blonde-haired girl who was holding a ragged bit of lumber for an oar. They were surrounded by corrugated tin fencing, half hidden by laundry hanging on the line, lost in their own little world. The oar was weathered to grey, and the fence was the same grey, dotted all over with spots of rust echoing the rust stains in the tub. The laundry, the shirt, and the girls' pinafores were shades of white and cream. A bit of blue sky peeked above the fence and through the billowing sheets and the blue was repeated in the ribbons at the end of the blonde girl's braids and in the shining eyes of both girls.

The artist had captured the exact moment they were setting off on an imaginary adventure, their faces rapt with excitement at escaping, if only for a little while, the shabby, dreary world they inhabited. 'The Pirate Girls of Collingwood' was written in a flowing hand below the scene.

Phryne had no idea how these exquisite things had come into existence but they instantly became her most prized possessions. Her eyes were very bright with tears threatening to spill as she looked at Jack again.

Jack held her gaze steadily as she whispered his name, completely oblivious of everyone else in the room except him. She reached a hand to him and a tear rolled down each cheek. Jack cupped her face in his hands and gently wiped each tear away. Phryne sniffed and whispered "Jack. Thank you." Another tear escaped and as she reached up to wipe it Jack handed her his handkerchief.

The look on Jack's face when Phryne wiped her nose and returned his used handkerchief dispelled the tension in the room and everyone gathered around her to see Jack's gift. When they realized what it was the room grew silent again for a few seconds and then everyone started talking at once, wanting to know about the sketch and painting, asking Jack who drew it, who painted it, and how, and when.

He told them about Iris, the art student at the museum, and how she was able to create Janey's portrait and imagine Phryne and Janey playing as he described them to her. "But other people helped with these gifts too," he said. "Miss Williams searched this house from top to bottom for photographs of Janey or Phryne and Janey. When she couldn't find any, it was her idea for me to call Mrs. Stanley, who very kindly loaned me two family photographs. If it wasn't for Jane asking to go to the art museum they wouldn't have seen the art students. And if it wasn't for Miss Williams' curiosity about what one particular student was doing and her quick thinking to get the student's name, I would never have found someone to create these gifts for Phryne."

Jack turned to back to Phryne and reached for her hands. "I wanted to give you something to remind you of your happy memories of your sister. And each time you look at these pictures remember you are loved too and we are so thankful you are in our lives." When Jack finished speaking he and Phryne were almost as still as statues, their only movement their hands squeezing the other's hands and their eyes searching the other's eyes, oblivious again to everyone else in the room.

Jane leaned in to whisper to Dot and Hugh. "That's exactly how they were looking at each other when we went to the theater. I think they forgot I was there."

Dot smiled at Jane. "Jane, that's exactly how they were looking at each other last year when I went into the kitchen to fetch a tray of snacks. They didn't even notice I was there. I had to tell Miss Fisher everyone was waiting for her."

Hugh looked at the two young women and smiled a little smugly. "I have both of you ladies beat. That's exactly how they were looking at each other on the train to Ballarat. They didn't even hear me come in the compartment. And then they did it again."

...

Mr. Butler pressed Bert and Cec into service to help serve glasses of champagne to toast Phryne and at Mr. B's signal everyone had a glass, Mac led Phryne into the entry hall and asked everyone to gather around to join her in a birthday toast to her oldest friend.

Jane changed the record on the gramophone and set the needle down as soon as the toasts finished and then rushed back so she could watch Jack's next surprise unfold. When the strains of a waltz filled the hall Jack handed his and Phryne's glasses to Jane and extended his hand to Phryne. "Miss Fisher? May I have the pleasure?"

Phryne gave Jack a look of absolute wonder and delight. He didn't wait for the inevitable "Jack? I thought you told me you don't dance." He just gently pulled her into his arms and began waltzing with her, smiling as he murmured in her ear. "We've never danced because I've never had the chance to ask you. You might think I'm a modern man but there are a few things I'm old-fashioned about."

Within just a few moments everyone took notice of what was happening in their midst and stopped chatting and laughing to watch Jack and Phryne dance. There were small groups at the foot of the stairs, in the telephone nook, just inside the dining room and the parlor, and by the front door. Jack and Phryne were completely unaware of their audience, smiling and gazing at only each other for the entirety of the piece. Jack blushed a tiny bit and Phryne laughed and curtsied when the music ended and was replaced by a round of applause.

"Thank you everyone" Phryne said, smiling at her guests. "I'm sure Jack and I aren't the only ones here who know how to waltz. There is plenty of room for you to join us if you like. And if there isn't we'll make room."

The music started again and Phryne turned back to Jack and placed her hand on his shoulder. Jack gave her a tiny teasing look as he reached for her other hand. "Is this your way of asking _me_ to dance, Miss Fisher?" he teased as they started waltzing again.

Phryne returned Jack's teasing look with one of eyelash fluttering innocence. "I was unaware your offer was limited to just one dance, Inspector. Should I stop?"

"No, you shouldn't stop. You may have as many dances as you like. As long as they're slow and close, of course."

"Be warned, Inspector. Now that I know you're such a good dancer I will remember your offer."

"I'm counting on it, Miss Fisher."

Mrs. Stanley was watching the couple dance and Mac was very intrigued that the expression on the older woman's face wasn't her usual scowl where Phryne and Jack were concerned. This is surprising, Mac thought to herself as she scooted around dancing couples and sidled over to Mrs. Stanley. "Have you ever seen Phryne look so happy, Mrs. Stanley?" Mac asked her quietly. The answer she received surprised her even more.

"No, I haven't, Dr. Macmillan. I believe she _is_ as happy as she looks. And the Inspector finally looks happy too, don't you think?" Mac nearly dropped her drink at that last bit. If Phryne and Jack ever stopped dancing she needed to corner Phryne and find out exactly what was going on.

...

Mac had to engineer her departure to be the last to leave so she could speak with Phryne privately. She said good night to Jack and linked arms with Phryne as they walked to the front door. Mac stepped out on to the front porch and raised her eyebrow at her friend. "I want the twenty-five words or less version of why your aunt was smiling at you two tonight instead of scowling."

Phryne smiled playfully. "Maybe she's been enchanted?"

Mac looked unconvinced. "Right. One of these days soon I want to hear the real reason. Happy birthday, Phryne."

Phryne turned off the entry hall light and walked into the parlor. Jack had already turned off a couple of lamps and was sitting in one of the armchairs. He had his drink in one hand and reached out to her with the other. She took the offered hand and lowered herself gracefully into his lap. He put his drink down and gently pulled off her lace jacket and draped it over his tuxedo jacket on the other armchair. "Much better" he said as he ran his fingertips across her collarbone to her bare shoulder. He took a sip of his drink and offered his glass to her.

Phryne took a sip and gave him his glass back. Then she untied his tie and unbuttoned his top two buttons. "Even better" she said as Jack pulled her close.

Jack rested his cheek against Phryne's head, gently stroking her bare arm and shoulder, and they were lost in their own thoughts for several minutes. He was very pleased her party had gone so well and she was happy with his gifts to her, but most of all he was glad the heartbreak of her sister's death had finally eased. Tonight when they caught sight of each across the room their looks were just as intimate as last year but in a much different way – sometimes teasing, sometimes loving, sometimes serene.

Phryne was idly fiddling with Jack's next button, thinking she had never seen him quite as relaxed and happy as he was tonight. She was very glad the heartbreak of his divorce had finally eased. He had been with her during some of the darkest moments of her life and had come up with an astonishing idea to turn the darkness into light. The imagination and effort he had put into her gifts was breathtaking. He was still surprising her beyond belief…

A niggling thought interrupted her admiration of Jack's imagination. "Jack?"

"Mmmm?"

"How did you get the photos from Aunt P?"

"I called her and asked if she had any photographs of you and Janey. She invited me to her house."

A hint of incredulity edged into Phryne's voice. "You went to Aunt P's alone?" She pulled back a tiny bit and smiled fondly at him. "You're braver than I thought."

Jack raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "I didn't have a choice. I needed to know exactly what Janey looked like so I would know how accurate the police sketch was."

"It was close. But her chin wasn't quite right. Iris' sketch is perfect." Phryne sat up and slipped her arms around Jack's neck. "I can't tell you how much I love your gifts. You really are the most wonderful man Jack Robinson."

"And you have thoroughly enchanted me Phryne Fisher." They pulled each other close and in the process of putting all of the love and longing and desire they felt for each other into their kisses and caresses buttons were unbuttoned and earrings were carefully removed and narrow straps were gently slipped aside.

They were more than a little breathless when Phryne rested her forehead on Jack's and whispered "I love dancing with you. Ask me again?" She stood up and reached for his hands.

...

Mr. Butler was in the kitchen dealing with the aftermath from the party when he thought he heard music. He automatically went through the dining room to see what was happening but stopped short at the door to the entry hall. His mistress and her inspector were standing in the parlor, her golden dress glimmering in the low light. They were speaking to each other but their voices were so low he couldn't make out any words. Mr. Butler turned and went back to the kitchen as quickly and quietly as possible, closing the door behind him. If he had stayed he would have seen his mistress rest her hand on her inspector's heart and her inspector gather her into his arms before they started to dance.

-ooo-

_A/N: In my profile I said I'm an incurable romantic and I wasn't joking. This is one of the chapters I've wanted to write from the very beginning and I've always wanted Phryne and Jack to dance. Right after I finished the first chapter of this story the birthday party waltz popped into my head while I was making a gratin for dinner. It was a kale gratin, not potato, but a gratin is a gratin._

_This may be the last chapter of this story. I have lots more ideas, but whether they are a part of this story or a new one remains to be seen. Either way, I will be away from my trusty laptop for a couple of weeks so it will be at least that long before I post anything new._


	17. Museum Visit

_Thank you so much for your incredible reviews of Phryne's birthday chapter. I'm so glad you liked it. It turns out I'm not finished with this story yet._

...

"_The work of the eyes is done. Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you." Ranier Maria Rilke, __'Letters to a Young Poet' _

-ooo-

They were finally wandering the rooms of the National Gallery together, walking so close their sleeves brushed each other's sleeves, standing so close they could hold each other's fingers when they stood in front of a painting.

Phryne sometimes maneuvered to stand in front of Jack and surreptitiously lean back into the solid warmth of his body, Jack sometimes maneuvered to stand very close behind Phryne and surreptitiously whisper in her ear, the only hint of his voice a wisp or two of dark hair dancing away from her sleek bob as he spoke.

They perused and considered and enjoyed, or not, the works before them. Occasionally Phryne would turn as though to move to the next painting, and look up to Jack from under her eyelashes, a cheeky comment on her lips, watching Jack's face for his amused reactions.

On the surface they were two perfectly respectable adults with nothing untoward in their appearance or behavior. In reality they were thoroughly enjoying themselves – it was just the two of them for once, no young wards or discomfited companions or elderly aunts requiring their attention or consideration or solicitude. The crinkles at the corners of their eyes, the upturned corners of their lips, the low tones, were unnoticed by all but the keenest observers.

A second century Aphrodite, mostly white with the faintest hint of grey tingeing her marble skin, was the museum's newest acquisition and she had pride of place that became visible when they turned the corner into the sculpture gallery. Phryne detached herself from Jack's side and strode over to her, circling her and giving her an approving once over. "What do you think, Inspector? She isn't quite as demure as the Venus de Milo."

Jack gave Phryne an equally approving once over. He liked playing their game as much as she did. "Let me assure you Miss Fisher, if you were dressed as Venus I would do whatever I could to make sure you and Aphrodite were wearing exactly the same thing."

Phryne smiled delightedly and stood as close as she could to Jack without incurring pointed stares from the older couple just entering the room. "I'll add that to my list of things to remember Inspector."

They walked a bit and found themselves in front of a small bronze of Perseus. "No fig leaves here. I think Jane enjoyed this piece far more than The Thinker." Phryne told Jack as she gestured to the Rodin, also small, also bronze, on the next plinth.

Jack quirked an eyebrow and shook his head. "I told you I really don't want to know, Phryne."

"If you're going to be that way about it Jack, you should be thankful I don't tell you about the look on her face when she saw that life-sized Adam and Eve." Phryne teased.

And so they continued for a little while, teasing and viewing and whispering and sidling until they came to a doorway with 'Official Artists' lettered on the wall to the right of the opening. Phryne recognized the names under the title – Charles Bryant, Will Dyson, Frederick Leist, Septimus Power, Arthur Streeton, Frank Crozier, William Rothenstein, and George W. Lambert – and she had a very good idea what they would find when they went through the door, but did Jack? Apparently so, because he gave her a long look and a very slight nod and gestured for her to precede him, lightly caressing her back as she passed in front of him.

The gallery was like a very long corridor with all of the drawings and all but one of the oil paintings on one wall. The thought of reaching the bright painting on the short wall at the far end was the only thing that relieved the cramped feeling and Phryne wondered whether they could stand being in the room long enough to look at everything.

Before she started studying the first piece Phryne linked her arm in Jack's and tested the waters. "Jack, did you see the '_Menin Gate at Midnight_' when it was in Melbourne last March?" She wondered what he would have thought of the painting of the monument in Ypres to 350,000 British and Empire dead.

Jack was already reading the description under the first painting but he glanced at her and nodded.

Hmmm, Phryne thought, I'm not sure whether that surprises me or not. She decided not to venture another question at the moment. She and Jack had hardly talked about their experiences in the war, much preferring to concentrate on the many joys of the present. Perhaps what they saw today would be the catalyst for the conversation. Memories make for powerful ghosts, she thought. I know mine – I wonder what Jack's are.

They studied the paintings and sketches silently, reading all the titles and all the descriptions, fingers twined together, never breaking contact as they made their way down the long narrow gallery. The pencil and charcoal drawings were punctuated by the oil paintings. They knew what to expect of the scenes from France – endless muddy fields often covered in snow, trees stripped of leaves and branches – but the scrubby hills and sand and dust of Gallipoli and Palestine were mostly unfamiliar. The portraits of the generals were far less interesting than the artists' self portraits – Rothenstein in wool and a steel helmet and Lambert in khaki and bareheaded.

When they finally reached the final painting on the short wall they felt a palpable sense of relief from the unrelenting line of paintings and sketches leading up to it. The blue sky and golden hills of the landscape and a skillfully composed young man holding his plumed hat could have been painted during the Renaissance. It was really rather astounding a picture borne of misery and tragedy could be so beautiful.

They exited the room and blinked to discover they were in the far end of the Paintings gallery. It was brightly lit from the skylights in the roof and the quiet hum of people murmuring to each other filled their ears. They both shook their heads slightly as if to move their thoughts to a place in their minds where they could process what they'd seen and save the contemplation for later.

...

A gradual reentry into the present time and place was interrupted by a cheerful "Inspector Robinson!"

Phryne looked up to see a young woman get up from an easel in front of a large landscape and stride toward them. She looked familiar but Phryne couldn't immediately place her.

Jack blinked again. "Miss Parsons! What are you doing here?

Iris smiled at Jack. "This is practically my second home Inspector. I'm here every weekend, copying other people's work until my professors tell me I'm skilled enough to claim to be an artist in my own right. Today I'd rather be somewhere else copying Agnes Goodsir or Margaret Preston but I wasn't given that option."

Iris turned to Phryne and smiled at her. "Miss Fisher? I'm Iris Parsons. It's nice to see you again." She paused to see if Phryne would figure out who she was and how she knew her name.

A look of surprise and recognition dawned on Phryne's face. "Miss Parsons! I'm so happy to meet you finally!" Phryne exclaimed as she reached to shake the young woman's hand. "You did such a wonderful job on the sketch of Janey and the watercolor was brilliant. Thank you so much!"

"You're very welcome, Miss Fisher. I'm so glad you like them. But the real thanks belong to Inspector Robinson. He described you and your sister so vividly it was easy to imagine the scene. And he had the photographs of you and your sister and the photographs of you at the police station..." Iris' voice trailed off when Jack caught her eye and shook his head almost imperceptibly.

Phryne didn't miss any of that little exchange. She had no idea exactly how many photographs Hugh had taken, and she turned to look at Jack with a combination of affection and mischief. "Oh. So you've seen my official police photographs? How did they turn out?"

Jack struggled to keep a straight face. "Not official, Miss Fisher. You were never charged and you were never arrested."

Iris watched the exchange between the two of them with amusement. So this was the woman the calm, quiet inspector was in love with. Of course he was in love with her – why else would he have gone to such effort for her birthday presents? When she talked with Miss Fisher and her companion several weeks ago the woman had seemed very pleasant and knowledgeable about art. Now Iris saw her in a different context and if the way they looked at each other was any indication Miss Fisher seemed to be as much in love with the Inspector as he was with her. Good for them, Iris thought, they deserve to be happy.

There was a quiet commotion behind them and Iris realized her fellow students were packing up their easels and drawing materials. "I'd love to talk some more Miss Fisher, Inspector, but it's time for us to move on to another room. I hope to see you again sometime."

"Iris, you should come for tea one day." Phryne winked at Iris and smiled innocently at Jack. "I have a Margaret Preston you can copy if you like and I'd love to know exactly what the Inspector said about me and my unofficial police photographs. Can you believe I've only ever seen one of those photos?"

Jack just shook his head. He was caught, fair and square. Truth be told, he was surprised it had taken so long.

...

The simplest thing in the world prompted the conversation.

For some reason the last thing Jack removed that night was his watch. Phryne was closing the wardrobe door and she heard him mutter "Damn it." as he worked to undo the strap. When she looked over to him he was sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, staring at his cupped palms.

"Jack? What is it? What happened?" Her voice was concerned.

"My watch strap broke." Jack didn't look up and his hands were still, cradling his watch in one hand and the broken bit of strap in the other. He had a stricken look on his face Phryne had never seen before.

Clearly there was more to this than a simple broken strap. His watch was old and somewhat battered and the strap had seen better days. She had seriously considered surprising him with a new watch but something told her to be very glad she hadn't.

Phryne crossed the room to him and her voice was low and soft when she spoke again. "Jack, where did you get that watch?"

"Everyone from Lance Corporal up was given one so we could coordinate attacks down to the second."

Oh god, Phryne thought, I have a feeling I know why such a simple thing could have such a devastating effect on him. She knelt at his feet and looked up to him. "Why do you still wear it? Why not wear a new one with no memories attached to it?"

"I have another watch. Rosie gave it to me the first Christmas after I came home. I wore it once and put it in the drawer and kept wearing this one.

Phryne, I was given responsibility for human lives by someone who knew nothing about me, who had no idea whether I was capable of the responsibility or cared anything about it. I wear it to remind myself to make considered decisions. To be aware of the lives around me. To remember the men I lost."

Here they are, Phryne thought as she listened to his answer, Jack's ghosts. She hadn't spoken about the war to anyone except Mac. She doubted Jack had spoken to anyone at all and she felt such sadness he had carried this in his heart for so long.

"Jack, you are the best man I have ever known. The mere fact that you care so much about Hugh and Elsie and all the Pandarus girls reveals more about your character than anything you could say. The men in charge did the best they could do with the information they had at the time. As horribly difficult as it must have been for you, they picked the right man."

"I wish Rosie could have understood why I couldn't wear her watch."

She reached out and cradled his hands, still holding the pieces, in hers. "Your marriage was a casualty of war too, Jack. If you or Rosie were different people perhaps your marriage could have survived. But you can't blame yourself for the deaths or the mistakes of others. As a very smart man once said, you owe it to all of the young men who didn't come home to live your life to the hilt."

Jack managed a wan smile. "I seem to recall saying something like that to you."

Phryne closed her eyes for a moment remembering when he had said just that and she nodded. "Yes, you did and you were right; we can only mourn what we've lost and then carry on. What we have now is a gift. You know I don't believe in a higher being Jack, but I do believe in taking care of the people who are precious to us and looking after those who come to us because they need our help or care or kindness."

"Phryne, I felt so... helpless knowing when the whistle sounded men who trusted me would be injured or dead within minutes."

Phryne could see the shimmer of tears in Jack's eyes and hear the anguish in his voice. She desperately needed him to know she understood. That they were two sides of the same coin.

She smoothed a lock of hair back from his forehead and cupped his cheek. "I know Jack. I held the hands of the same young men who crawled up the sides of those trenches and ran to their deaths. I told them they would be fine. I asked them their names and held their hands and told them they were loved and cherished and they would get better and go home. I lied to hundreds of young men who needed a loving thought before they let go."

And now Jack could hear the tears and anguish in Phryne's voice. He leaned into the palm still pressed against his cheek.

But Phryne wasn't finished. "Sometimes, not often at all, someone believed me and had the strength to hang on. And knowing they had sustained me, and gave me the strength to go back the next day and do it all over again. If only to help save one life out of hundreds became enough. It became what I was fighting for. I promised myself when it was all over I would never waste a moment of time on regrets or pettiness. That I would do everything in my power to live for all of the young men who couldn't.

Jack had long suspected those were Phryne's reasons for living her life as she had, grabbing every opportunity for closeness and warmth and pleasure with other human beings. To laugh at death and spit in its eye. To affirm being alive when so many others were not.

He met Phryne's shimmering gaze. "That's why you haven't taken anything seriously since 1918, isn't it. Except the important things."

"Yes, except the important things. If you'll trust me with your watch I'll get a new strap for it."

It was the perfect response. Jack placed the pieces of his watch on the bedside table and stood, gently pulling Phryne up with him and gathering her close.

He buried his face in the soft curve of her neck, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief she understood why the watch was so important to him. The thought crossed his mind if ever two people were two strings being played by the same bow it was them and he desperately needed her to know just how much her love and indomitable spirit had lifted him from darkness.

"Phryne, I trust you with all the important things in my life."

Phryne tightened her arms around him, relieved and thankful they were finally able to share their memories and begin to put their ghosts to rest. She began to say just that but Jack gently pulled her dressing gown away from her shoulders and the need to speak was overcome by the need to affirm life.

-ooo-

_A/N: The painting at the end of the gallery is George __Lambert's 'A Sergeant of the Light Horse Palestine.' Lambert was one of 14 official war artists appointed by the __Australian war office. All of the 'Official Artists' I listed had works at the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne in 1929 except Will Dyson. The NGV did not have any pieces from his 'Australia at War Series 1918' until they were given to the museum in 1996. However, since Dyson's pieces were apparently in the possession of one person, I invoked creative license and the collector loaned the pieces to the museum for my exhibition. __William Rothenstein was an Australian appointed as a war artist by the British war office._

_The 'Menin Gate at Midnight' painting depicts thousands and thousands of ghostly solders outside the Menin Gate memorial in Ypres, Belgium. It was painted by Australian artist Will Longstaff in 1927 – a time when spiritualism was very popular. The painting toured the country and was reproduced and sold door-to-door with the message "He is not missing. He is here." designed to comfort the families who would never have the chance to travel to the faraway place their loved ones had died and were memorialized. The painting is part of the collection of the Australian War Memorial in Canberra._

_All of the sculptures mentioned in this chapter, except the Venus de Milo, were owned by the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne in 1929. The Venus de Milo is __part of the collection of_ _the Louvre Museum in Paris, France._

_In the interests of historical accuracy, you should know that the watch Jack wears in MFMM looks nothing like the watches typically worn by WWI soldiers; their watches were typically round-faced and the faces were larger._

_One last note: according to the ABC's MFMM concept document, Phryne joined an all-women ambulance brigade attached to the French Army. In this story I 'm not implying that she was a nurse, I'm merely extrapolating from the scene in Murder in Montparnasse where she is holding the bloody hand of an injured soldier. The concept document also describes Jack as a Lance Corporal who served on the Western Front._


	18. Oh Christmas Tree

_Thank you so much for your heartfelt and thoughtful reviews of the previous chapter and its companion story, The French Photograph. _

_This chapter picks up just as the previous chapter ends: the night of the watch conversation and continues to the next day._

-ooo-

Affirming life was slow and sweet and exquisitely tender, the merest hint of tears always close as they whispered endearments that bound them closer and closer and quiet wonder began to exorcise the ghosts they'd both carried with them for so long.

Of course the hint of ghosts still lingered at the edges of their consciousness, and they always would, but they began to shift from their long-held seats in the center of their minds, leaving in their wake a larger space for new memories and deeper love and profound joy that they'd found each other and had come so far together.

They drifted off, Phryne cradling Jack's head on her shoulder, smoothing his hair, pressing kisses to his forehead, Jack tracing the curve of Phryne's hip, warm fingertips against warm skin, the steady rhythm of their breathing lulling them to rest and sleep and peace.

They woke late, the stirring of one waking the other and they stretched together, almost shy when their eyes met. They lay still and quiet for several minutes, limbs and skin pressed close. They knew they'd reached another turning point, one where they weren't simply in love and lust with each other, but were something even closer, even more intimate, and it was completely new for both of them.

Jack kissed Phryne so softly it was almost thought rather than touch, whispering I love you against her lips, reveling at the returned whisper against his lips. Since they still weren't quite used to outright declarations of love in the bright light of day Phryne lightened the mood by squeezing Jack's bottom and declaring first dibs on the bathroom and Jack responded by tickling Phryne's ribs and declaring he'd race her there.

...

There was a lot of noise coming from downstairs, far more noise than was usual for a normal Monday morning. Jack was still in the bathroom so Phryne pulled on her dressing gown and went out on to the landing to investigate. The front door was wide open and Bert and Cec were muttering loudly at each other.

Mr. Butler was directing the two men as they maneuvered the Christmas tree up the front path and into the entry hall. Bert and Cec were still muttering loudly as they came in the house, Cec nearly hidden behind the tree. The tree had been standing in a bucket of water in a shady spot outside the kitchen for the past week and it was time to bring it into the house. Bert was not particularly happy to be carrying the wet end of the tree.

Phryne went back to the bedroom and relayed the news to Jack. He was already dressing, tucking his shirttails into his khakis, glad he'd thought to keep something more casual than a suit in Phryne's wardrobe. He had combed his hair but hadn't shaved. "I saw the comrades coming up the path with the tree. You don't think I'm going to let them have all the fun, do you?" he asked as he rolled up his shirtsleeves.

He pressed a slightly scratchy kiss on her cheek and then grinned and headed downstairs. She heard him ask "What can I do to help?" as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Good morning Inspector" Mr. Butler responded. He thought fast. The appearance of the Inspector, casually dressed and obviously willing to insert himself into the morning's domestic proceedings, was something of a surprise. Not that the Inspector wasn't capable of helping, just that he was offering to help where the cabbies were already involved. Hmmm, Mr. Butler thought, let's see what happens. "I think the best course is for two of you gentlemen to move the chairs and tables out of harm's way while one of you holds the tree."

While Bert wasn't averse to taking the easier task of holding the tree, he certainly wasn't going to stand there passively while an oppressor of the masses took on a harder job. Bert lowered the bottom of the tree to the floor with a quick "you hold it" to Cec, leaving a surprised Cec to grapple with the added weight and struggle for a moment to stop the trunk's slide across the tiles. Bert gave Jack a long look, almost challenging but not quite, and the two men each grabbed an armchair and moved them to beside the loveseat. Then they moved the two small tables to the wall by the drinks cart and added the piano bench to the mix.

While Jack and Bert were doing the preparation in the parlor Mr. Butler brought the tree stand into the hall. To his thinking it would be more efficient to put the tree in the stand here where they had more room than to try to wrangle it into the stand in the corner of the parlor.

Since Cec was still holding the tree Mr. Butler asked him to lift it up a bit so he could slide the stand into place. Cec took a few seconds to get a better handhold on the trunk and lifted. Unfortunately his position didn't give him quite enough leverage to lift the tree high enough. Jack and Bert gave each other a quick look and Bert moved to help Cec lift a little higher while Jack knelt and maneuvered the stand into place. He called out "it's in – hold it up straight" and tightened the bolts to hold the trunk firmly in place.

...

Phryne was positively enchanted by the happy Jack who bounded down the stairs and she decided she wanted to watch the proceedings. It would be fun watching and listening to Bert and Cec and Jack work together, she thought mischievously. Household chores like getting the tree in the house usually happened when she wasn't home, so this would be a first in more than one way. She pulled on trousers and a blouse as quickly as possible then ran her brush through her hair and swiped some color on her lips.

"Good morning Mr. B," Phryne called gaily as she skipped down the stairs. "I see you've chosen the wise course in letting the Inspector and Bert and Cec strong-arm the tree. I'll just…" Phryne stopped short when she realized all four men were looking at her. "Don't mind me," she smiled at them, "Mr. B, perhaps we can all breakfast together when the tree is in place?"

...

Jack, Bert, and Cec turned back to the tree, examined the results of their efforts, and breathed a sigh of relief they'd got it right. The tree was standing straight and seemed perfectly stable in its stand. "Let's move the furniture back a bit – give us more room to maneuver into the corner" Jack said and Bert nodded in agreement and they headed into the parlor. To their surprise, Phryne was seated on the loveseat, feet up, queen of all she surveyed.

Jack and Bert looked at her and then at each other as if wondering which of them was going to ask her to get up. A mischievous look passed over Jack's face and he jerked his head at Bert and leaned down to grab the heavy end of the loveseat. Bert's look of surprise was quickly replaced by a conspiratorial grin and he grabbed the other end. "One, two, three," they said in unison and lifted the piece of furniture and its occupant and moved it closer to the bookcases. Then they each moved an armchair further back too.

Phryne grinned delightedly as she said "Gentlemen, there was no need for you to exert yourselves. You could have asked me to get up."

Jack cocked an eyebrow at her. "What and disturb your repose, oh queen?" His reward was another delighted grin and a quick squeeze of his hand.

Bert watched the exchange between Miss Fisher and the Inspector with a great deal of interest. He rarely had the opportunity to see them at such close quarters, much less such casual, intimate close quarters. This was an interesting development indeed. He grudgingly conceded that picking up the loveseat, with Miss Fisher still seated on it, and the resulting fond glances they gave each other, meant the Inspector probably really was a long-term fixture in the household. He might as well get used to it.

Cec also watched the exchange with a great deal of interest. The Inspector had offered to help and hadn't butted in to take over, instead letting Mr. B direct all their efforts. He didn't seem to expend much effort picking up the loaded loveseat. Cec gave Bert a 'Maybe the Inspector isn't so bad for a copper' look. Bert responded with a 'You must be joking. This is a fluke.' look.

Mr. Butler brought in the box with the lights and suggested Bert test the lights first and the other two string them on the tree. Phryne watched with amusement as Mr. B subtly changed the dynamic between the men and deftly circumvented any quibbles over how the job should be done. Besides being prescient and supremely discreet, it seemed her butler might be quite the diplomat. It looked like he was using the Christmas tree to bring about a hint of détente between her oppressor Inspector and her Communist cabbies.

...

Confident the men were stringing the lights to his satisfaction, Mr. Butler turned to his mistress and told her breakfast would be ready in a few minutes.

The aromas of sizzling bacon and browning toast wafted through to the entry hall just as the lighting crew finished their task. Jack held out a hand to help Phryne up from the loveseat, and the two of them followed Bert and Cec to the kitchen. As soon as the cabbies were out of sight Phryne stopped and tugged Jack close. "I had no idea you were so enthralled with Christmas trees, Inspector," she purred as his arms slipped around her waist.

Jack smiled and hugged her closer. "Ever since I was a boy, Miss Fisher." His smile faded just a little and she felt a tiny pang when she heard what he said next. "I've missed the whole business of bringing them into the house and setting them up."

"Then I'm doubly glad you're here this morning," Phryne whispered as she returned Jack's hug.

The smell of eggs frying joined the other delectable scents coming from the kitchen and the quiet moment passed. Jack relinquished Phryne's waist and took her hand. "Come on. I'm sure you worked up an appetite watching us work. And I need to shave and dress and get to the station."

Bert and Cec were already devouring their breakfast and Mr. Butler set Jack's and Phryne's plates in front of them as soon as they took their places at the kitchen table. "Mr. Butler, please join us," Phryne said. "Supervising is hard work."

"I will, thank you, Miss," Mr. Butler replied as he prepared a plate for himself. Before he took his first bite he said "I had such willing workers it was an easy job. Cec managing the tree on that slippery tile, the Inspector and Bert moving the heavy furniture…" his voice trailed off as he took a bite of egg and bacon.

"I was quite impressed with the display of brute strength involved in moving the love seat with me on it." Phryne quipped and took a sip of her coffee.

Bert puffed up just a little. "The furniture was easy. Wasn't heavy at all."

Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "I like a challenge that requires some thought and strategy as well as physical prowess."

Cec laughed. "That was a good strategy – picking up the loveseat with Miss Fisher on it."

Bert gave his friend a 'whose side are you on anyhow?' look.

Jack busied himself with spreading jam on toast, not even blinking when he felt Phryne's foot curling around the back of his calf.

Mr. Butler took another bite of egg and bacon. When he looked up his mistress was gazing at him with the tiniest hint of a twinkle in her eye.

...

Jack was shaving while Phryne sat on the end of the bed and watched and admired and told him how she was going to spend the rest of the day. "… Jane used her pocket money to buy her mother some slippers, so I'm going to get Anna a new nightdress and a new dressing gown. And I need to pick up Jane's gift…"

Jack wiped the little bits of lather off his face and turned to Phryne. Not only had she taken Jane under her wing, she was responsible for the care and attention Jane's mother Anna was receiving. Even though he'd seen many, many instances of her compassion and kindness, he still couldn't quite believe the depths of thoughtfulness and generosity this amazing woman possessed.

Phryne's voice filtered through his reverie. "But my first stop is to get your watch strap replaced. Do you want me to bring it to you at the station this afternoon or do you want to wait until we see each other again?"

Jack walked over to her and pressed a not scratchy kiss on her cheek. "I can do without my watch until tomorrow night, but bring it to the station, please. I miss seeing you in my office."

...

Phryne blew a kiss to Jack as he closed the front gate and then she went back inside. She smiled when she saw an envelope leaning against the mirror, expecting Jack's note to be sweetly provocative after her comment about brute strength.

She was wrong. His note simply said '_I love you more than I can possibly tell you._'

But he was wrong. He told her 'I love you' all the time – holding her hand, rubbing her feet, his birthday gifts, playing and flirting with her, conversations where he actually said what he meant and thought and felt, and, most important, trusting her with his watch and his heart.

She didn't need time or space to come to grips with what he was saying. She ran out the door and down the front path to the street, breathing a sigh of relief she could catch up with him.

"Jack!" she called. He turned back, concerned something might be wrong when he saw her rushing to him.

"Phryne! What is it?" Then he saw his note in her hand.

She was a little bit breathless after her dash. "Jack, you're wrong." His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You tell me and show me how much you love me all the time. And Jack, I feel exactly the same way about you."

Since a footpath on a busy road was most definitely not the place for a passionate embrace they contented themselves with shining eyes and tiny smiles that broadened to happy grins.


	19. Ask me, Jack

_And now I really have come to the end of this story. I've enjoyed writing this arc of Jack and Phryne's relationship more than I can possibly tell you. _

_As usual, there are references to episodes, to earlier chapters in this story and to my other stories._

-ooo-

_Christmas Eve_

Twelve intricate stars cut from white paper had been added to the mix of shiny ornaments and garlands Jack remembered from the Christmas in July tree.

Phryne was pouring two glasses of champagne and telling him about the afternoon's tree decorating activities.

"…when we realized everything on the tree was new and impersonal. _I_ didn't have anything from my childhood to put on the tree and neither did Jane. So we made a star for everyone. Now it looks like a Christmas tree should look, don't you think?"

Jack wondered how Phryne's childhood Christmases – and Jane's – must compare to the present. To have nothing from childhood was almost inconceivable to him. His mother still hung every ornament her children ever made on the family Christmas tree every year. He was willing to bet she had their cards and best school papers and mementos tucked somewhere safe and could lay her hands on them at a moment's notice. Phryne's delight in the stars she and Jane made was a joy to behold.

The object of Jack's admiration was blissfully unaware of his thoughts as she handed him a glass of champagne. _She_ was thinking about the look on his face just before he bounded downstairs to help with the tree. It was loving and confident and happy. She saw it again when she teased him about being enthralled with Christmas trees. She loves that look.

Phryne was smiling mischievously when she slipped an arm around Jack's waist and lifted her glass to him. "_I_ think we should celebrate our first Christmas tree," she said.

The implications of Phryne's words were not lost on Jack but he matched his response to her mood and gave her a playful sidelong look. "Are you sure?" he teased gently. "I think it's our second tree." He paused for a moment and pretended to think. "No. It's our third tree."

"Jack. What are you talking about?"

"Christmas in July. There was a tree at the chalet and you had a tree here. We were together for those trees."

"But they weren't _our_ trees Jack. You didn't help set them up. _This_ is our first tree."

"Oh, you mean I didn't move any furniture for those two trees. Now I understand your logic." He smiled fondly at her as he gently touched his glass to hers. "You're absolutely right; this is our first Christmas tree. We _should_ celebrate."

They took a sip of champagne, smiling at each other over the rims of their tilted glasses.

Phryne nestled closer and rested her head on his shoulder. "Jack?"

She felt a kiss pressed to the top of her head. "Mmmm?"

"I want to be with you for all the Christmas trees."

He gathered her so close she could feel his response as well as hear it. "So do I."

...

_Christmas Day_

Jane was sitting on the floor next to the Christmas tree, surrounded by discarded wrapping paper and ribbons and she was opening her last gift. "Thank you!" Jane exclaimed as she lifted a new camera out of its box. She gave Phryne an apologetic look. "I wasn't as careful as I should have been with my first one, was I?"

"I think you know how to take care of one now." Phryne replied, cocking her eyebrow for just a second to drive home the point. Jane was a typical teenager with all the attendant teenage foibles, including occasional carelessness. But Phryne thought she'd seen a hint of a very good eye in some of the photographs Jane had taken and was willing to give her another chance.

Jane was also a darling, thoughtful girl and Phryne's expression softened to a fond smile. "It's just like mine, so you already know how to use it. There's film in the smaller box."

Jane pulled a package of film out of the small box and loaded it in her camera. "Smile!" she said as she pointed the camera at Phryne. "You're looking at our new family photographer!"

"Let's get dressed, Miss Photographer. I want to stop at the police station on the way to Aunt P's."

...

Jack was behind the desk in the reception room and he heard their voices as they walked up the path to the station door.

"Phryne! Jane! What are you doing here?"

"Happy Christmas, Inspector!" Jane surprised Jack by kissing him on the cheek. "Look what Miss Phryne gave me," and she held out her camera to show him.

"Very nice, Jane," Jack replied, and turned to Phryne with an inquiring look. He had heard about the fate of Jane's first camera and the mother-daughter discussion about borrowing Phryne's camera without asking.

"There's method to my madness, Inspector," she said.

"There always is, Miss Fisher," Jack smiled. "But you still haven't told me why you're here."

Phryne returned Jack's smile with a brilliant one of her own. "Jack! You're irresistible, of course. I didn't want to wait until tonight to give you this." She handed him a small box he had seen under the tree.

Jack had no idea what the box could hold. It was the wrong shape for a pen and too small for a book. He gave Phryne a quizzical look and opened her gift. A thin black satin ribbon was coiled inside with a note: '_Do you remember Olympia?_'

Phryne fluttered her eyelashes at Jack. "Do you?" she asked.

Jack pursed his lips. "Wait here," he said and he disappeared into his office for a minute. He came back with a very small box and handed it to Phryne. "I _thought_ we were going to exchange gifts tonight. But since you insist on teasing me today, turnabout is fair play."

Phryne gave Jack her own quizzical look and opened his gift. A thin black velvet ribbon was coiled in the box with a note: '_I would love to see you as Olympia._'

The delighted grin on her face was matched by the big grin on his face.

"You told me Olympia was wearing a bracelet, didn't you Miss Fisher?" Jack asked as he wrapped the satin ribbon around Phryne's wrist and secured it with a tiny bow.

Phryne looked up at Jack from under her eyelashes and her voice was husky as she stroked his lapel. "I love it when you listen to what I tell you, Inspector."

Jack leaned in to her. "I hear _everything_ you say, Miss Fisher," his voice was low and delicious. "I'll wrap the rest of my present tonight."

Phryne gently tugged Jack's lapel so he stayed close. "I'll find my high-heeled slippers."

Jane watched Jack and Phryne through the viewfinder of her new camera. She had no idea why they were so pleased with themselves, but for the moment they'd forgotten she was there and that was fine with her. This is going to be a good picture she thought as she pressed the button and the shutter clicked. They didn't even flinch at the sound so she took another picture for good measure.

...

Jane decided to ask the questions she'd been thinking about for the past few weeks while she and Phryne were making their way to Mrs. Stanley's home.

"Miss Phryne, when did you know you were in love with Inspector Robinson?"

It was interesting Jane hadn't asked _if_ she was in love with Jack; she made the assumption she _was_ and went from there. Phryne always tried to be honest with Jane, within reason of course, and she saw no reason not to be now.

A soft smile crossed Phryne's face. "I was absolutely certain the day he went with you to the Botanic Gardens."

That's very specific, Jane thought. But the process of getting there was unclear. "How did you know?"

Phryne considered her answer. Jack had revealed almost everything she needed to know about him – his stance on abortion and homosexuality, his participation in the police strike, the state of his marriage and most of the reasons why – within the first weeks of their acquaintance. He refused to judge her for how she conducted her life. When they finally acted on their attraction he was extraordinarily generous with his affection and attention. He treated her as his equal. She knew, very early on, she could trust him.

What could she say that captured the essence of their relationship? "First I realized I liked him and trusted him and we became friends. Then I realized I was always happy to be with him, even if the circumstances weren't happy. And then I realized I love him."

"When you put it like that it all sounds so simple," Jane replied.

"I suppose it is really," Phryne admitted. "But it takes time and it's important to go through all the stages before you get to the love part."

It certainly had taken them long enough, Jane thought. "I hope the photos of you and the Inspector come out well."

Phryne gave Jane a blank look. "What photos?"

"The photos I took at the station. You didn't even notice, did you?" Jane was enjoying this. "I took two pictures of you and the Inspector after you gave each other the ribbons. Don't you remember I said I was going to be the new family photographer?"

"If you don't mind Jane, I'd like a copy of those photos when you get them developed."

...

"Mother, I want to go to the beach with Phryne and everyone tomorrow. Please can we go?" Arthur's face was positively shining at the prospect of an outing to the beach.

Mrs. Stanley shuddered internally. The beach was definitely _not_ her favorite place to spend time. Sand ended up _everywhere_.

"Phryne and I will discuss it, Arthur. Now take Jane up to the playroom and show her the rest of your Christmas gifts."

Mrs. Stanley waited until Arthur and Jane were gone before she turned to Phryne and asked "Phryne, would you consider a change of venue? You may remember I have a bathing shed at Brighton Beach. The St. Kilda foreshore is not what it once was – most days there are far too many ruffians and there certainly will be more of them there on Boxing Day."

Phryne thought for a moment. There was nothing wrong with the St. Kilda beach, and it was far closer to her home than Brighton Beach. She felt a flicker of annoyance that Aunt P could be such a snob but it died instantly when she realized her aunt was just trying to come up with a way for Arthur to join the party. She would have to telephone Mac about the change of plans but that shouldn't be a problem. "Of course we can change the venue, Aunt P."

"Thank you my dear. Remind me to give you the key to the bathing shed before you leave today. I'm sure you'll arrive before we do. And now Phryne, my dear, let's have our coffee in the parlor. There's something I want to talk to you about."

Phryne blinked. Her aunt never called her 'my dear,' even though they were on much more amicable terms lately. Now she'd done it twice in the space of less than a minute. Something was up.

Mrs. Stanley waited until the coffee had been poured and the maids were back in the kitchen before she began. "Phryne," her aunt said and appeared to take a moment to compose herself.

The scene was eerily reminiscent of the one where Jack had come to tea and her aunt had scolded them about their theater outing with Jane. Phryne braced herself for whatever might be coming.

Ten minutes later she felt honored by her aunt's request and amazed her aunt had been so candid with Jack.

"… agrees with me. I mentioned it to him when he was here to borrow the photographs. I needed to know how he would feel if some of your time and attention was taken up on a long-term basis by Arthur's care. I have to think of everyone's future."

It was time to get a word in edgewise. "Aunt P…"

Mrs. Stanley forged ahead. "Any man who would spend as much time and effort he did on your birthday gifts intends to be in your life for a very long time."

Try harder, Phryne told herself. "Aunt P, you're right. Jack _will _be in my life for a very long time."

...

_Christmas Evening_

They were in the parlor, relaxing after a long, busy day. Jack had regaled Phryne with tales of Christmas dinner with his family and now they were discussing Mrs. Stanley's plans for Arthur.

"What if Guy objects?" Jack knew Phryne could be trusted to carry out her aunt's wishes. But he was genuinely concerned about the possibility of a major, and thoroughly unpleasant, disagreement between Phryne and Guy.

Phryne looked pensive. "I don't think he will object, especially since _he _wouldn't have to do anything. And Aunt P says it's very unlikely he and Isabella will return to Australia to live. But anything could happen…"

"And often does," Jack chimed in.

"And often does," Phryne agreed, nodding absently. "We'll just have to wait and see what the future brings."

"Speaking of the future..." Jack got up and retrieved a box from his overcoat pocked. He handed it to Phryne.

"Jack, that's cheating! We already exchanged gifts."

"Phryne, this isn't a gift. Besides, you've already given me the greatest gift of all."

"But Jack…"

"I'm serious. Phryne, you love me and we have a Christmas tree. What more could I possibly want?" Jack lifted her chin and kissed her lightly. "Just open it, please."

Five shining silver stars, four large, one small, flickered up to her. She spied a loop of ribbon and the stars fell into place as she lifted the loop from the box.

"It's beautiful," she said in wonder. Her eyes widened when she realized what it was. "It's the Southern Cross."

Jack nodded and tweaked tiny wires here and there so the stars would hang freely. "I made it when I was a boy. I must have been ten or eleven and I was going through a stargazing stage. I couldn't figure out how to add the pointers and have everything hang properly, though."

He looked like he was still trying to solve the problem and the hint of the snub-nosed boy Phryne sometimes saw when Jack slept was on his face now. She was charmed to see the hint during waking hours.

She was also very amused. "Stargazing stage, Jack?"

Jack gave her a 'what else don't you know about boys?' look. "Phryne every boy goes through stages of intense interest – stamps, flags, coins. I was fascinated by stars at the time. This has been on every one of my family's Christmas trees since I made it. "

"Didn't your mother object to you taking it?"

"She put it in the box for you. Now, where should we put it?"

Phryne's eyes searched _their_ tree, looking for the perfect place for this wonderful thing. There weren't any bare spots – the paper stars filled those. Except…

"Jack! Hang it at the top of the tree."

They wrapped their arms around each other and admired the result. Their entire relationship had unfolded and grown and deepened in this room. The orchid on the piano, the watercolor over the mantle, and now the shining stars at the top of the tree, were simply the tangible proof.

The stars trembled on their tiny wires and twinkled as they caught the lamplight.

"That's exactly where it belongs," Jack said.

"It has a new home," Phryne replied.

...

_Christmas Night_

Phryne stretched luxuriously and turned on her side to face Jack. "I much prefer Christmas in December to Christmas in July, Inspector. As appealing as you were in woolly jumpers, it's much easier to get to your buttons in December."

"Mmmm. I agree, Miss Fisher. There are fewer layers to get to Olympia," Jack said as he untied his velvet ribbon from Phryne's neck.

"I think Olympia should be our Christmas tradition," Phryne said as she wrapped a finger around the ribbon dangling from Jack's hand. "Ribbons suit the season perfectly …"

"And so does the unwrapping," Jack replied, grinning as he unwound the satin ribbon from her wrist and trailed it over her hip.

"You certainly mastered the challenge of spending less than five shillings on a gift, Jack."

"So did you." He smiled as he trailed the ribbon over her thigh. "All it took was thought and strategy. I've been thinking about how to get you in nothing but a black ribbon for quite a while."

"Don't forget physical prowess. You're very good at tying bows."

She started giggling when the ribbon tickled the sensitive skin behind her knee. She caught Jack's hand and laced her fingers with his.

She was smiling as she looked up to him. "Ask me, Jack."

He knew exactly what she meant. "I always figured _you_ would ask _me_, Phryne. In fact I'm quite sure you _told_ me last night."

"You said you're old-fashioned about some things so I thought you might like to be the one to _ask_. But it took you forever to ask me to dance …"

"Hmmm. It didn't take _forever_ …"

"… and I don't want to wait forever for you to ask this."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I know we can't do anything right away and we probably shouldn't even tell anyone for a while."

"Phryne, before we go any further, you know I can't possibly afford to support you the way you live now."

"Jack, that's only because all your male relatives didn't die and leave your father to inherit a fortune. Are you here because I have a nice house and car or because I wear expensive clothes and jewelry?"

"No."

"If I had to give back my inheritance I would still have money because I learned how to invest wisely. If I lost everything I would just start over again. Somehow, against all odds, we found each other and that's all that matters. I want you to ask me."

"If you're quite sure…"

"Jack Robinson, if you don't ask me right now I'll do it myself!"

"Phryne Fisher, I love you more than I can possibly tell you and I can hardly remember what life was like before you. Will you spend all your Christmases with me?"

"Of course I will. You've thoroughly enchanted me and I love you more than I can possibly tell you too."

-ooo-

_A/N: Thank you so much for reading! And thank you for your wonderful reviews over the four months it took for this story to unfold._

_I also need to thank Idolatrous. I knew I wanted Jack to give Phryne something from his childhood and she graciously allowed me to borrow her lovely vision of Jack stargazing as a boy in chapter 8 of Ulumbarra._

_._

_The Brighton Beach Test is the next story._


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